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A celebration of the
stories, traditions, legends,
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EDITED BY NATHAN AUSUBEL
Specially abridged and with a
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500 more classic tales.
A Treasury of
JEWISH
FOLKLORE
STORIES, TRADITIONS, LEGENDS, HUMOR,
WISDOM AND FOLK SONGS OF
THE JEWISH PEOPLE
EDITED BY NATHAN AUSUBEL
Specially abridged and with a new
introduction by Alan Mintz
A TREASURY OF JEWISH FOLKLORB
A Bantam Book / published by arrangement with
Crown Publishers, Inc.
PRINTING HISTORY
Crown edition published June 1948
33rd printing June 1978
A Selection of Jewish Book Club October 1973
Bantam abridged edition / October 1980
All rights reserved.
Copyright 1948 by Crown Publishers, Inc.
Renewed copyright © 1976 by Crown Publishers, Inc.
Abridged edition copyright © 1980 by Bantam Books, Inc .
Introduction copyright © 1980 by Alan Mintz.
Cover art copyright © 1980 by Bantam Books, Inc.
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0987654321
TO MARYNN
who shared with me the labor as well as the
delight of rediscovering the beauty,
laughter and wisdom of our
people’s lore.
Contents
note: All items not otherwise credited are the work of the editor.
These are stories from Oral Tradition and adaptations from
foreign-language sources.
Preface to the Bantam Edition xvii
Introduction xxiii
Part One: JEWISH SALT
Such Odds! 2
The Realist 2
Higher Mathematics 3
Richer than Rothschild 3
A Lesson in Talmud 3
Hitting the Bull’s Eye 4
Lost and Found 5
So What? 5
Why Only One Adam? 6
His Fault 7
It Was Obvious 7
He Had Him Coming and
Going 8
The Fine Art of Fanning 9
For Honor 10
No Target 10
Pain and Pleasure 11
The Rabbi’s Nourishment 11
Cheap 11
He Ran for His Health 12
World-Weary 13
Truth in Gay Clothes 13
What Is Greatness? 14
The Modest Saint 14
The Poor Are Willing 14
There Are Miracles and
Miracles IS
The Expert 15
No Loan! 15
A Quick Prayer 16
Schnapps Wisdom 16
He Should Have Taken
More Time 16
It Pays to Be Ignorant 17
Equally Logical 18
The Life of a Jew! 18
Nebich! 19
The Modest Rabbi 19
The Secret of Power 20
Circumdsional Evidence 21
The Sled Story 21
A Rabbi for a Day 22
All Right 24
Why the Hair on the Head
Turns Gray Before the
Beard 24
The Way Anti-Semites
Reason 26
The Relativity of Distance 26
viii
CONTENTS
Part Two: HEROES
Introduction
30
1.
WISE
MEN
Wise and Learned men
The Last Trouble Is the
Worst
57
Introduction
33
The Parable of the Wise
The Romance of Akiba
36
Fishes
58
The Rabbi and the
Know Before You Criticize
58
Inquisitor
40
The Man and the Angel of
Shallow Judgment
41
Death
60
The Vanity of Rabbi
Barking Dogs
60
Mar Zutra
42
The Rosebush and the
Grief in Moderation
42
Apple Tree
61
The Virtue of the
The Parable of the Old
Commonplace
43
Cloak
62
Why God Gave No
Wisdom to Fools
43
Learning Knows No Class
44
The Ancient Art of
Learning That Leads to
Reasoning
Action
44
The Parable of the Two
Introduction
62
Gems
45
Always Two Possibilities
63
The Best and the Worst
It Could Always Be Worse
63
Things
47
Wishes Must Never Be
God’s Delicacy
47
Vague
65
An Author’s Life After
Damning with Praise
65
Forty
48
A Brief Sermon
66
An Unpredictable Life
48
Mikhail Ivanovitch Makes
Stale Ancestors — Stale
a Discovery
66
Learning
49
The Cheapest Way
68
The Most Valuable
Why Scholars Have
Merchandise
49
Homely Wives
68
Learning and Knowing
50
The Arrogant Rabbi
69
Spinoza
50
Love of Perfection
69
Double-Talk
51
A Reason for Every Custom 51
Wise Judges
Why Jerusalem Was
Introduction
69
Destroyed
52
The Old Man and the
Where Is Paradise?
53
Snake and the Judgment
of Solomon
70
Whose Was the Blame?
72
Parables
A Very Ancient Law
73
The Discerning Judge
74
Introduction
53
What’s in a Name?
75
Man Understands But Little
55
Equal Justice
75
The Poor Man’s Miracle
56
The Saving Voice
76
The Giant and the Cripple
56
He Didn’t Deserve His Fee
76
The Blessing
For Whom the Cock Crowed
Too Clever Is Not Clever
Riddle Solvers
Introduction
Alexander’s Instruction
The Wisdom of the Jews
CONTENTS
ix
77
How to Replenish a
78
Treasury
83
79
Rabbinical Arithmetic
84
The Real Son
The Innkeeper’s Clever
84
Daughter
85
The Farmer’s Daughter
88
80
The Story of Kunz and His
80
82
Shepherd
92
2. MIRACLES
Cabalists, Mystics and
Wonder-Workers
Introduction 95
Why Rabbi Israel Laughed
Three Times 99
The Book of Mysteries 103
The Trial of Rabbi
Gershon 109
The Poor Wayfarer 110
The Cabalists 111
The Rabbi Who Wished to
Abolish Death 116
Asking for the Impossible 1 17
Rashi and Godfrey of
Bouillon 119
Rabbi Amram’s Rhine
Journey 120
The Hidden Saint 122
Messiah Stories
Introduction 123
Joseph della Rayna Storms
Heaven 124
The Messiah Came to
Town 136
Why the Messiah Doesn’t
Come 136
Skeptics and Scoffers
Introduction 139
Conclusive Proof 139
The Right Kind of Judge 140
Leave It to the Rabbi 140
Deduction 142
Realistic Miracles 142
A Believer’s Truth 142
Miracles 142
The Farseeing Rabbi 143
Pipe-Dreams 143
The Gulden Test 144
A Fool Asks Too Many
Questions 145
Part Three: THE HUMAN COMEDY
Introduction
1. DROLL CHARACTERS
148
Schnorrers and
They Got the Itch
168
Beggars
On the Minsk-Pinsk Line
169
Introduction
152
The Schnorrer and the
Farmer
169
The King of Schnorrers
153
CONTENTS
X
One Blind Look Was
Enough 170
Price Is No Object 170
A Sure Cure 170
Every Expert to His Own
Field 171
No Credit 171
He Spared No Expense 172
A Local Reputation 172
The Schnorrer-in-Law 172
Wags and Wits
Introduction 173
He Worried Fast 174
The Choice 175
Mutual Introduction 175
Tit for Tat 175
The Jew and the Caliph 189
You’re as Old as You Feel 189
Mazel Tov! 189
Wrong Order 190
The Foresigh ted Traveller 190
Dramatic Criticism 190
Why Noodles are Noodles 191
The Big Blow 191
The Sacrifice Was Too
Great 192
HERSHEL OSTROPOL1ER
Hershel’s Conflict 192
Hershel’s Revenge on the
Women 194
Reciprocity 196
How Hershel Almost
Became a Bigamist 196
Hershel as Coachman 197
The Poor Cow 199
A Perfect Fit 199
A Tooth for a Tooth 201
What Hershel’s Father
Did 202
Gilding the Lily 202
When Hershel Eats 202
Hershel as Wine-Doctor 205
The Feast 206
The Way to Die 208
Fools and Simpletons
Introduction 209
What Makes a Fool 211
Some of the Nicest People 211
Why Waste Money? 212
Philosophy with Noodles 212
Surplus 213
If It Were Anyone Else 213
It’s Terrible 214
Making It Easy 214
the wisdom of chelm
The Mistake 215
The Golden Shoes 215
The Chelm Goat Mystery 216
Innocence and Arithmetic 221
By the Beard of His
Mother 222
The Great Chelm
Controversy 222
Superfluous 223
Wet Logic 224
Can This Be I? 224
The Columbus of Chelm 224
Food Out of the Horse’s
Mouth 227
A Sage Question 228
Chelm Justice 228
Pure Science 228
Overcoming Messiah 229
The Umbrella 229
Excavation in Chelm 229
The Worriers of Chelm 230
The Safeguard 230
The Discreet Shammes 231
A Riddle 231
Taxes 231
The Affair of the Rolling
Trunk 232
The Secret of Growing 234
SCHLEMIHLS AND
SCHLIMAZLS
Introduction
The Henpecked Rabbi
Poor Man’s Luck
Two Possibilities
To Avert Disaster
Poor Fish
A Jewish Highwayman
Definition
X Marks the Spot
Marriages Are Made in
CONTENTS Xi
Vice Is Also an Art 243
235
237
238
238
239
239
240
241
242
Ignoramuses and
Pretenders
From What Einstein
Makes a Living 244
One Use for Scholarship 244
The Truth about Falsehood 245
A Violation of Nature 245
It Takes More than Brains 245
The Diagnosis 246
What Does It Matter? 246
Heaven
242
Philosophy
246
An Absent-Minded Fellow
243
Note to Obstetricians
246
A Prayer and a Deal
243
The Dachshund
247
2. ROGUES AND SINNERS
Tricksters and
The Strategists
260
Rogues
Total Destruction
260
Veracity
260
Introduction
248
The Birds That Turned to
The Thief Who Was Too
Stone
261
Clever
249
Miracles and Wonders
262
You Can’t Fool God
250
The Wise Rogue
251
Justice in Sodom
252
Misers and Stingy
Sodom’s Bed for Strangers
252
Men
Charity in Sodom
252
Example in Sodom
253
The Great Experiment
262
Cunning Against Greed
253
The Sweating Will
263
The Way Tailors Figure
254
The Orphan
263
He Was Underpaid
254
He Got His Ruble Back
263
The Penitents
255
The Miser
264
One Shot Too Many
256
Who Counts?
264
The Clever Thief
256
A Sure Sign
264
Very Very Antique
257
New Management
257
Sinners
265
The Ways of a Rogue
257
Introduction
Professional Pride
258
Saint and Sinner
265
Honor among Thieves
259
Heavenly Justice
266
Filial Love
268
Relativity
268
Liars and Braggarts
When Prayer Is No Help
269
Absent-Minded
269
Introduction
259
From Bad to Worse
270
CONTENTS
3. TRADITIONAL TYPES
Introduction
271
A Tradesman’s Revenge
283
A Kindness
284
Rothschild and
The Rich Uncle
284
Other Rich Men
Production Worries
285
Nickeleh-Pickeleh
285
His Bad Luck Held
273
Too Late
286
Discovery at 7 a. m.
274
Whose Money?
274
Doctors and
Living de Luxe
274
Patients
Rothschild’s Poverty
274
A Calculation
The Rights of Schnorrers
275
286
Montefiore’s Buttons
275
One of the Diseases of
The Price of a Millionaire
275
Mankind
286
The One to Call the Tune
276
How to Collect Dues
286
True Grief
276
Insomnia
287
Steam-Bath Soliloquy
277
Rich Man’s Folly
277
Waiters and
Credit Too Good
A Father with Foresight
278
278
Restaurants
The Customer Is Always
Tailors
Right
288
Service
289
Out of Style
279
A Fishy Conversation
289
Both from Minsk
Napoleon and the Jewish
Tailor
279
279
Oysters for Atonement
Matchmakers
289
Scholars and
Introduction
289
Scripture Teachers
The Unreasonable Young
291
291
292
293
Etiquette Among Scholars
Goal Achieved
Strictly Kosher
Potatoes
281
282
282
282
Man
Happiness, Ready-to-Wear
The Art of Exaggeration
The Aristocrat
The Over-Enthusiastic
Shadchan
293
Merchants,
The Truth Will Out
294
Shopkeepers,
What a Life!
295
Peddlers
Speak Up
295
Only Sometimes
295
To Save Time
283
In Haste •
295
4. HUMOROUS
ANECDOTES AND JESTS
Ziisskind the Tailor
299
The Biggest Favor
301
The Power of a Lie
300
Secret Strategy
302
The Merchant from Brisk
301
Mother-in-Law Relativity
302
CONTENTS
xiii
All Agents Are Alike
303
Retorts
All About the Elephant
Babe Ruth and the Jewish
304
Rabbinical Limits
312
Question
304
Montefiore and the
The Captain
304
Anti-Semite
312
Ready for Everything
305
Animated Conversation
313
Also a Minyan-Man
305
The Snob
313
When Your Life Is in
Pessimist and Optimist
313
Danger
305
Why Not?
314
They Misled the Gendarme 306
Proper Distinctions
314
Very Understandable
307
Evil to Him . . .
314
Commentary
307
Essential Trade
315
Comfort
307
Cold Hospitality
308
Conversation Piece
308
Bitter Jests
Stop Me If . . .
308
A Livelihood
309
Introduction
315
A Full Accounting
309
The Independent Chicken
316
Mother Love
309
Applied Psychology
317
Initiative
310
Handicapped
317
No Admittance
310
God’s Mercy
318
Whose Drawers?
311
They Shoot First
318
Shortcut
311
Sedition Saved Him
319
A Matter of Degree
312
Hitler’s Circus
319
Wasted Protection
320
Pity
320
Part Four: TALES AND LEGENDS
1. BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS
Introduction
322
Why God Forgives Man
351
The Making of Adam
326
King David Bows Before
The First Tear
327
an Idol
352
Falsehood and Wickedness
328
Better than a Dead Lion
352
Abraham and the Idols
330
The Wall of the Poor
353
Abraham Before Nimrod
331
Gates of Beauty
355
God Protects the Heathen
The Beauty of Simple
Too
331
Things
355
Moses the Shepherd
333
King Solomon and the
Israel Undying
334
Queen of Sheba
356
The Crossing of the Red
The Origin of the Roman
Sea
334
Empire
365
The Widow and the Law
341
The Downfall of King
The Angels Jealous of
Solomon
366
Moses
342
The Sorrow of Jeremiah
369
The Death of Moses
343
The Trials of Jonah
374
xiV CONTENTS
2. THE WORLD TO COME
Introduction
378
Tapers to Heaven
384
A Worthy Companion
380
Bontshe the Silent
384
The Piety of the Heart
381
The Fear of Death
391
What Tipped the Scales
383
3.
FOLK
TALES
Introduction
393
Pope Elhanan
403
The Great Are Also Little
394
Caught in His Own Trap
409
The Lord Helpeth Man
The Three Daughters, or
and Beast
395
the Evil of Tale Bearing
411
The Acquisitive Eye
397
The Faithful Neighbor
412
The Power of Hope
398
King Ptolemy and the
The Test of a True Friend
399
Seventy Wise Jews
414
Each Man to His Paradise
402
4. DEMON TALES
Introduction
419
The Golem of Prague
431
King Solomon and the
The Miser’s
Worm
421
Transformation
439
The Witches of Ascalon
427
No Privacy Anywhere
443
Introductory Note to The
The Man Who Married a
Golem of Prague
428
She-Devil
445
5. ANIMAL TALES
Introduction
449
Know Your Enemy
456
The Fate of the Wicked
The Wise Bird and the
(A Fable by Rabbi Meir) 451
Foolish Man
457
The Advantage of Being a
The Fox and the Foolish
Scholar
452
Fishes
458
King Leviathan and the
The Proper Place for a
Charitable Boy
453
Tail
461
The Sly Fox
455
The Curse of the Indolent
461
The Price of Envy
455
The Fox and the Leopard
461
Part Five: PROVERBS AND RIDDLES
1. PROVERBS AND 3. RIDDLES 480
FOLK SAYINGS 470 4. CONUNDRUMS 482
2. FOLKQU1PS 478
CONTENTS
XV
Notes
485
Glossary
495
Index
501
r
• • •
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\
Preface to the Bantam Edition
Nathan Ausubel’s A Treasury of Jewish Folklore, which
now appears for the first time in a paperback edition, has en-
joyed nearly forty printings during the four decades since its
first publication. The Treasury occupies a place in hundreds
of thousands of home libraries; year in and year out it is
given as a gift at moments of passage and celebration; speak-
ers and writers continue to rely on it for the telling anecdote
or the illustrative story.
Why has Ausubel’s collection become a popular classic?
The reason, I think, lies in the fact that this volume is much
more than an anthology. Anthologies, by their nature, are
usually makeshift affairs; they stand as apologies for some
more comprehensive treatment of a subject that cannot yet be
written or that no one has bothered to write. They arouse our
expectations but quickly disappoint them, decomposing into a
series of unresolved fragments that fail to amount to a real
book. In contrast, generations of readers have found in
Ausubel’s Treasury an imaginative unity that is decidedly not
a substitute for something more complete. Ausubel has
succeeded in realizing the aim he states in the introduction to
this volume: to render a collective portrait of the Jewish
people. Though he has given us an epic canvas peopled by
myriads of diverse figures, the image on the canvas is a cohe-
sive one, the unmistakable likeness of a single people. And
given the complexity of the Jewish people, their historical ex-
perience and symbolic creations, this is indeed a remarkable
and compelling achievement.
Ausubel was able to accomplish this because of his convic-
tion— one not very widely shared these days — that it is pos-
sible to draw a collective portrait of a people. This
affirmation is based on the belief that there is a discoverable
underlying unity to the historical experience not just of the
Jews but of every great people. Ausubel harks back in this
conviction to an older Romantic conception of the existence
of a “folk mind.” The word “folk” here has very little to do
with notions of the primitive, the quaint, or the undeveloped.
xvii
xviii
PREFACE
Ausubel takes “folk” as a designation for an entire people, a
historical nationality, like the French, the Finns, or in this
case, the Jews. In this way of thinking each people has a folk
mind, a national genius, which is a set of characteristics that
especially mark that group and that remain constant through-
out the flux of historical change. In Ausubel’s conception of
the folk mind there is nothing triumphal or chauvinist. His
celebration of the passions and quirks of his own people is
never at the expense of others.
Folklore is the symbolic expression of the folk mind, and
since Ausubel defines the folk mind so broadly, he under-
stands folklore in a similarly catholic sense. In contrast to the
scientific, anthropological approach to folklore currently in
vogue, Ausubel finds his sources across the entire life of a
people. Whereas the detached ethnologist respects as authen-
tic only material that can be gotten from the oral testimony
of natives in exotic habitats, Ausubel draws on literary sources
as well as oral, high culture as well as popular culture.
And unlike the more analytical folklorist, Ausubel is actively
and sympathetically engaged in his material, celebrating it as
he records and collects, comments, and retells. This is, after
all, hot material from some faraway tribe but the treasures of
his own people.
Ausubel’s ideas about the folk mind help explain the ambi-
tious variety of the sources for this anthology. His principal
sources include the following: the legendary material from
the literature of the Talmud we call Midrash (second to sev-
enteenth centuries); medieval folktales; collections of Hasidic
narratives (eighteenth and nineteenth centuries); retellings of
folktales by modern writers; jokes and anecdotes current in a
variety of forms. The nature of these sources, the cultural
function they perform, and the level of society at which they
operate are widely different. The tales told by the Talmudic
sages to learned listeners are one thing; a joke about a schnor-
rer and merchant is something else. Similarly, we might
find existing side by side in this volume an authentic tale told
by a Hasidic master to his pious audience together with the
conscious remolding of a traditional tale by a modernist
writer such as Peretz, who sought to make a statement about
human nature to his secular audience. Ausubel does not give
us enough information about his sources to pick up such dis-
tinctions, and the critical reader might rightly wish for more
citation.
PREFACE
xix
This is not, it should be stressed, carelessness on Ausubel’s
part. He. believed that the folk mind is truly timeless, so that
the precise points at which we dip into it are unimportant
relative to the truth of the whole that is illuminated. One
does not have to accept this premise entirely to be transfixed
by the panorama of Ausubel’s vision and by the dazzle of the
kaleidoscope of sources. The remarkable unity that emerges
from Ausubel’s disparate sources can perhaps be attributed
not so much to the folk mind but to the great tradition of
oral and literary creativity it draws from, an inheritance we
may call the Agadic Tradition. In the matrix of classical
Judaism the Halakhah is the legal element that is concerned
with the theory and practice of what is required of man in
his behavior in the world. The Agada is the complementary
element, which describes the adventures of the religious imag-
ination and whose characteristic mode is story telling. It is
this second dimension that forms the principle of selection for
Ausubel. For although he draws from a vast and varied array
of sources, he passes over legal and philosophical literature
and instead delves into the wealth of a coherent tradition of
Agadic activity.
Ausubel can be seen as a recreator of a tradition. The text
of A Treasury of Jewish Folklore is so accessible that we are
hardly aware of how large a role Ausubel has played in the
weaving of its fabric. However, if we stop to reflect, we have
to acknowledge the prodigious industry and constant probity
that must have gone into the culling of this material from
hundreds of sources, as well as the scholarship and erudition
involved in responsible translation from many languages.
But even if we recognize AusubeFs competence in selection
and translation, there remains qualities we would expect
from any good anthologist. The texture of A Treasury of
Jewish Folklore reveals something rarer and less tangible: the
dimension of craft. The stories and anecdotes in this volume
often are not simply translations; they are recastings and re-
tellings of their sources. What is involved here is not a be-
trayal of the originals but an act of intellectual solicitude.
The remolding of each tale represents a separate instance of
a brokering between the foreign, antique idiom of the source
and contemporary norms of intelligibility. Anyone familiar
with Talmudic literature in the original knows that faithful,
exact translations, no matter how elegant, still require a
wealth of annotation and explication before we can digest
XX
PREFACE
them smoothly. Ausubel has done that work for us. He has
made thousands of decisions about shape, idiom, locutions,
details, endings; and all this in such a way that the tales fall
easily within our conventions of understanding as modem
readers of English, while retaining an unmistakable aura of
their origins.
Although the legendary and pious tales are told with charm
and skill, Ausubel is actually at his best in the hundreds of
comic anecdotes and jests that make A Treasury of Jewish
Folklore more fun than its demure title would suggest. In
presenting the humorous material Ausubel comes into his
own as a raconteur, for here he need be less concerned with
mediating cultural distance than with capturing a moment of
verbal magic. His skill with timing and inflection together
with his sense of economy and restraint is the raconteur’s
equivalent of perfect pitch.
Yet, it is not due simply to Ausubel’s talent that the jokes
are what work best in the Treasury: it is the material itself.
All of the sententious wisdom of sages and saints seems in-
substantial compared with the ability of the jokes to commu-
nicate the deep pathos and resilience of Jewish life. The jokes
are paradoxically and profoundly more serious. This quality
seems to epitomize something essential to the larger structure
of the Jewish imagination. Take this example:
A Jew was walking on the Bismarck Platz in Berlin when
unintentionally he brushed against a Prussian officer.
“Swine!” roared the officer.
“Cohen!” replied the Jew with a stiff bow.
Now, it would be difficult to imagine two persons between
whom there existed a greater gulf of power than a Prussian
officer and a Jew. Yet by means of a clever retort the Jew for
a moment turns the situation around, and while we know that
there has been no real diminishment of the officer’s preroga-
tives, we delight in this moment of imagined reversal.
This, I believe, is the basic pattern for the best jokes and
anecdotes in A Treasury of Jewish Folklore. The initial situa-
tion usually involves a relationship of inequality and disad-
vantage between two parties — most often, actually, between
two Jews — with regard to power, money, honor, or respect-
ability. What happens in the joke is that the advantage is tem-
porarily equalized or even reversed by a verbal sleight of
PREFACE
XX i
hand, usually an audacious reinterpretation or play on words.
At the nub of the joke, therefore, is a shift from the reality of
the given situation, which never really changes, to a plane of
language in which the powerful can indeed be bested. The
jump from the constricting reality of the world to a space of
imaginative freedom lasts only for the moment of the telling,
but at the very least it keeps alive in us the capacity to imag-
ine that the arrangements of the world are not forever undis-
turbable.
i
Introduction
Like other children brought up in an orthodox Jewish envi-
ronment I was immersed in Jewish song and story as soon as
I became aware of the world around me. Years later, I dis-
covered that the lore of my people had entered into my blood
stream, as it were, and had become a part of the cultural re-
ality of my life. Who has not had this experience? Melodies
sung in childhood have a tendency to linger persistently in
the subconscious and the stories and sayings we heard time
and again from the lips of our parents are never really erased
from our memory.
While my main purpose in compiling this anthology was to
present the spontaneous folk-creation of the Jewish people, I
was also motivated by the desire to recapture the fading
memory of the wonder and the beauty that had inspirited my
childhood in the Old World. And so I began to gather all the
myths and parables, stories and legends, the songs and the
wise sayings upon which I, and millions of other Jewish chil-
dren throughout the many centuries, had been nurtured.
But what was my delight to discover in the course of the
work that a unified portrait was shaping itself in an almost
sculptural sense out of all these materials. This portrait was
of one I knew intimately, of some one endowed with a well-
defined character, familiar psychological traits, ethical values
and emotional responses. And before long I knew with cer-
tainty whose portrait it was — it was the composite portrait of
the Jewish people.
How could there have emerged such a remarkable unity
from all this variegated mass of folk-materials? For one
thing, Jewish historic experience has been disturbingly similar
in so many ways, in every age and in almost every land of
the Diaspora. Jews have never been allowed to sink their
roots for long anywhere; they have been forced to be ever-
lasting wanderers on the highways of the world. They have
been perpetually faced with the same kind of slanders and
persecutions in almost every country and in every generation.
And their folklore naturally is but a faithful chronicle of
xxiii
INTRODUCTION
xxiv
these historic experiences. Then again, we cannot avoid the
fact that for three thousand years the remnants of Israel have
maintained their ethnic-cultural identity, which too is an un-
paralleled historical phenomenon.
Like children who had no father to give them protection,
no home they could call their own, they developed a feeling
of deep emotional insecurity in the world. They found com-
fort in devotion to their faith and their religious literature, of
which much of Jewish folklore is a significant part. For
sacred writings, such as the Talmud and Midrash, are almost
inexhaustible repositories of the legends, myths, and parables
of the Jewish people. In almost perpetual study of this litera-
ture as a devotional obligation, the Jew of every age and ev-
ery country absorbed these elements of folklore and entered
them into the cultural experiences of his life.
By the humanizing art of the legend such foremost heroes
as Moses, Jeremiah and Hillel, have been transformed into
well-loved ancestors — we might say members of the same
family. Even God has lost his awesomeness in the folkloristic
transformation. “And nowhere indeed has God been rendered
so utterly human, been taken so closely to man’s bosom and,
in the embrace, so thoroughly changed into an elder brother,
a slightly older father, as here in the Midrash . . . God has
not merely become a man, he has become a Jew, an elderly
bearded Jew.”*
There is no folklore that can claim such a long and contin-
uous history as the Jewish, that has had such a vast range of
productivity in both time and geography. It is richly varied
and colorful with the imprint of the many diverse cultures
that Jews have assimilated everywhere through the many cen-
turies. Nonetheless, despite the absorption and adaptation of
non-Jewish elements from without and despite the conse-
quences of more than twenty-five centuries of wide dispersion
in almost every part of the world, Jewish folklore probably
possesses an over-all unity greater than that of any other. It is
noteworthy, for instance, that, while American folklore has
had a continuous three-hundred-year history of creativity in a
unified geographic area, it nevertheless can claim a lesser in-
tegration than the folklore of the Jewish people with its
* Professor H. Slonimsky, On Reading the Midrash. In The Jewish Insti-
tute Quarterly, January, 1928, p. 3.
INTRODUCTION
XXV
several thousand years of turbulent history in so many parts
of the globe.
Folldore is a vivid record of a people, palpitating with life
itself, and its greatest art is its artlessness. It is a true and un-
guarded portrait, for where art may be selective, may
conceal, gloss over defects and even prettify, folk art is al-
ways revealing, always truthful in the sense that it is a spon-
taneous expression. It is therefore three-dimensional with the
sense of “life” and “people.” It proceeds in a straight line to
the significant and ignores the trivial. By juxtaposing good
with evil, light with shadow, grief with laughter, and honesty
with sham, it achieves the harmonious unity of opposites that
resides in objective truth.
The Jewish people has fathered many talented and pro-
found sons and daughters but no less talented and pro-
found— in a somewhat different way perhaps — has been the
people itself. Because it hides unpretentiously behind its
anonymous creation like the unnamed master-sculptors of an-
cient Egypt, few have learned to recognize it as the creator of
significant culture. Certainly, men of eminence could never
have arisen in any of the arts of civilization had it not been
for the molding force of the people’s mass-genius which
serves to them as the fertile soil to the seedling. The funda-
mental lore of folklore in the creation of culture is yet insuffi-
ciently recognized except by those who have succeeded in
freeing themselves of the “Great Man” theory of history and
culture so eulogized by Carlyle in Hero and Hero-Worship
and in The Aristocracy of Talent.*
Some writers have expressed astonishment at the marked
intellectual and sophisticated character of so much of Jewish
folklore. But seen within the context of its social and cultural
history there is nothing at all baffling in this. Jews became an
intellectual people not because of any innate mental superior-
ity over other peoples, but because of the peculiar nature of
their history. They have cherished and preserved their tradi-
tion of learning ever since the Age of Ezra the Scribe and the
public teachings of the Men of the Great Assembly during
the Sixth Century b.c. In large measure this tradition was
• “With the modem trend of seeing the individual as a part of the whole
social organism, folklore is becoming an auxiliary science for a social and
religious history as well as an integral part of the history of literature.”
— Abraham Berger, The Literature of Jewish Folklore . In Journal of Jewish
Bibliography, V. 1. Nos. 1-2, 1938-39.
xxvi
INTRODUCTION
derived from the religious obligation of every Jew to study
Scripture ceaselessly, for it must always be kept in mind that
Judaism was cradled in a theocracy, a priest state. In later
centuries, this study also embraced the Mishna, the Talmud
and the Midrash, of which folklore was an integral part.
This activity was not only unprecedented in its mass scope
in the intellectual history of mankind, but, within its limited
religious framework, it represented the most democratic phi-
losophy of education in Antiquity. This universal duty to
study as a religious act broadened the base of Jewish culture
and, in consequence, elevated it.
It was this general and sustained intellectual activity among
Jews that, in the process of refinement and sensitizing
through many centuries, led to a razor-edged sharpening of
wits, to a verbal ease of articulation, and to an unusual pre-
occupation with abstract ideas and philosophical speculation.
In the plain Jew this differed from that of the scholar only in
extent and intensity. Sometimes this virtuosity led to an intel-
lectual sterility, defeated its own avowed ends. The scholar
so often became entangled in his own complicated web of
hair-splitting. This fruitless type of mental gymnastics, even
in the Talmud, drew forth the ironic retort from an exasper-
ated rabbi in debate with a casuistical opponent: “Aren’t you
from Pumbeditha where they draw an elephant through the
eye of a needle?”
But by and large, the Rabbis of old who compiled the Tal-
mud and the Midrash were neither pedants nor closet schol-
ars. They were down-to-earth teachers of the people, robust
with the life-urge and endowed with good practical sense. In
their desire to make their teaching intelligible to the people,
they drew with canny pedagogy upon the familiar tales,
legends, witticisms and sayings current among the Jews.
Being men of talent and of considerable profundity they in
turn took fire from the uninhibited folk-imagination and
themselves adapted innumerable folk-stories and sayings which
they wove ingeniously into the fabric of their learned homi-
lies and discussions. In their turn again the common folk,
who revered as sacred these tales and their source in Talmud
and Midrash, adopted them and, in the process of telling and
retelling them, embroidered them with their inexhaustible
fancy, invention and wisdom. The practice of employing the
old legends, parables and the ethical exempla of the sages for
didactic ends was continued by the rabbis and preachers of
INTRODUCTION
XXV11
later days down to our own time. Thus, like the complemen-
tary interaction between the shuttle and the loom, the Jewish
people and their teachers together wove a tapestry of folklore
of the most exquisite designs and colors.
What are the salient features of Jewish folklore which dis-
tinguish it from other bodies of folklore?
To begin with, it is most frequently of a poetical and intro-
spective nature. It is philosophical and subtle, pious and mor-
alistic, witty and ironic. But it is almost always ethical,
pointing a lesson of right conduct, ceaselessly instructing, of-
ten even when it is being entertaining or humorous. To be
sure, other peoples’ folklore also possesses some of these
characteristics, but the nature of their culture and history led
them to make other emphases.
Wit and irony can be regarded as the likely attributes of a
civilized mentality. In Jewish life, as reflected in its folklore,
these traits have been nourished by a macerated national sen-
sibility, by a disenchantment with a world not of its making
or choosing. Jews have received their tempering from an un-
flinching realism learned for a high fee in the school of life;
they have always felt the need of fortifying their spirits with
the armor of laughter against the barbs of the world.
Despite the tragedy of their historic experiences, Jews have
always been life-affirming or they could not possibly have
survived the ordeals they had to go through as a people. In
fact, if anything, their troubles made indestructible optimists
of them. The therapy of gaiety and laughter was as necessary
to them as the very air they breathed. The life-force within
them was far too vital to be dissolved in tears and perpetual
mourning. Neither persecution, nor grief, nor the poverty of
their dank ghetto-prisons could keep Jews from laughing. But
their laughter had to be something more than gay frivolity,
something more than mere diversion. It had to be an affirma-
tive and defiant answer to the world’s cruelties. And so within
Jewish humor there is a unique type of wit that serves, not
only as a trenchant commentary on life, but also as a correc-
tive, as a mellowing agent which helps draw the string of
grief from tragedy. The mellowing humor may very well be
called “Jewish Salt,” an indefinable quality comparable to
“Attic Salt” except for a distinctive flavor of its own which
helps establish the character of Jewish folklore. For this rea-
son the book begins with a touch of this seasoning.
xxviii
INTRODUCTION
Many Jewish legends and folk tales are suffused with a
deep sadness. Like so many of the Jewish folk songs they too
are keyed in a haunting minor. But somehow this sadness
rarely degenerates into despair or even self-pity. Almost al-
ways it bears within it the saving-grace of catharsis, of the
ennoblement of grief in the steadfast spirit, of the moral tri-
umph of the righteous even in defeat.
As we have already noted, Jewish folklore is knit together
by a remarkable unity of both subject matter and world-view
despite its vast time-place sweep. This cohesion also has been
due to the fact that the most significant tales were found in
the Agada in the Talmud and in the Midrash. Later Jewish
folklore, to a very considerable extent, was merely poured
into the traditional matrix of form and content established by
the ancient Rabbinical folklorists.
Jewish folklore treats of Heaven and Earth, of Paradise
and Hell, of Good and Evil, of the natural and the supernat-
ural, of the spiritual and the material, of the sacred and the
profane. A large number of legends and myths, derived from
their neighbors in Persia and Babylonia among whom the
Jews lived for so many centuries after the Captivity, tell of
angels and demons — all mediators between God and man’s
destiny of which he is the architect according to the good or
evil of his conduct. In hundreds of other tales, with the hu-
manizing intimacy of the true folklore spirit, there passes
through a procession of the Patriarchs and the Prophets, of
the Jewish kings and heroes, sages and scholars, saints and
sinners, martyrs and renegades, rationalists and mystagogues,
men of faith and also men of little faith. One of the objec-
tives of all these tales is didactic — to hold up to the view of
the Jew the inspiring example of his eminent forefathers in
righteousness. They have still other objectives — to offer con-
solation and hope to the afflicted, to reconcile for the simple
Jew the unhappy destiny of his people with his own trust in
God, and also to explain to him those Scriptural passages and
incidents that baffle his questioning mind. About these
legends Tolstoy wrote in the 1880’s: “They contain some-
thing unendingly gentle and movingly great, like the rosy
morning star on a quiet morning. The most precious quality
in them is their agitation over the eternal mysteries of the hu-
man soul.”
INTRODUCTION
xxix
Folklore is a continuous and unending process and flows
along with the stream of life. There has not been yet suffi-
cient time for the recent historic experiences of the Jewish
people to crystallize into folklore. It is perhaps too early for
the emergence of legend out of the staggering tragedy of the
six million Jews murdered in the charnel houses of Hitler.
And time must elapse before the Maccabean grandeur that
infuses the struggle of the Jews of Israel against the combined
might of their enemies will kindle the folk imagination to
give it utterance. Yet that time will surely come, for life, with
the deft fingers of a weaver, tirelessly draws the crimson
thread of human anguish and struggle into its magical pat-
terns.
In conclusion, I would like to add a personal note. The
years of labor which have gone into the preparation of this
work will be more than rewarded if it will reveal to the
Jewish reader the existence of the little known cultural
treasures of his people and, in consequence, will fill him with
the sense of human dignity and worth that is his birthright.
To the Gentile reader Jewish folklore addresses itself with its
myriad implications because it is but a colorful part of the
kaleidoscope of universal culture. May it make plain the
common humanity of all races and nations and thus draw
them closer in the bonds of brotherhood and understanding.
Major Sources of Jewish Folklore
Most of the old legends contained in this book are
naturally from the Agada of the Talmud and the Midrash.
But of the character and contents of these vast repositories of
folklore many people, Jews included, have but the haziest
idea. For instance, the French historian Bossuet, who was a
bishop as well as a famous savant, once appealed to the phi-
losopher Leibnitz to procure for him a translation of the Tal-
mud by “Monsieur Mishna.” Therefore, to those readers who
may find themselves in the predicament of Bossuet, it might
be useful to explain in the barest outline what the Mishna,
the Talmud and the Midrash actually are.
As is well known, the Pentateuch (the Five Books of
Moses) contains the Jewish written Law, or Torah. In time,
beginning with the era of the Scribes ( Soferim ) who
succeeded Ezra, it was found necessary to add to the written
Law a second body of Law consisting of traditional doctrine
xxx INTRODUCTION
that had been orally transmitted through the centuries. The
Mishna (repetition or doctrine) constituted this Second Law.
It was compiled in Palestine and composed in Hebrew by one
hundred and forty-eight teacher-scribes called Tannaim
( Mishna teachers). It was a Code that developed but slowly,
taking almost five and a half centuries, from the era of the
Scribes to its final redaction by Judah ha-Nasi in the Third
Century a.d.
However, the oral traditions contained in the Mishna were
found urgently in need of interpretation. In answer to this
need emerged the Gemara (doctrine) or, as it is more often
called, the Talmud (explanation), as a commentary on the
text of the Mishna.
The Talmud, which constitutes the Corpus Juris of the
Jews, was created by several hundred rabbis who went under
the collective name of Amoraim (expounders); they regarded
themselves as the continuators of the Tannaim, the architects
of the Mishna. The Talmud is not just one book but a great
collection of many books; it is not the product of one age but
of several centuries. With the meticulous care of practiced le-
gal scholars the Amoraim examined the Mishna sentence by
sentence, carefully traced every source and tried in cool ob-
jective discussion with one another to reconcile the contradic-
tions they encountered in the Mishna text. It was a rare
instance indeed when they attempted to lay down the law
dogmatically — they merely gave their reasoned opinions,
presented their views in the course of discussion, the dissent-
ing one side by side with those of the majority. The laws
that they discussed and interpreted touched on a vast number
of subjects concerning every minute circumstance or problem
arising in contemporary experience. Not just religion, but phi-
losophy, hygiene, ethics and other matters of a civil and secu-
lar nature came under their purview.
There are actually two Talmuds — one which was de-
veloped by the Amoraim in the Rabbinical academies of Bab-
ylonia where a great settlement of Jews had been established
during the Captivity, the other which was created by the
Amoraim of Palestine. The Babylonian Talmud received its
final redaction in the Fifth Century a.d. by the Rabbinic edi-
tors, the Saboraim (ponderers), who were the successors to
the Amoraim. The Jerusalem Talmud was closed by the
Palestinian Saboraim a hundred years before, in a.d. 370. Of
the two the Babylonian Talmud, which is about three times
INTRODUCTION
XXXI
the size of the Jerusalem Talmud, is by far the more impor-
tant, although both are commentaries of the same Mishna
text. However, the Jerusalem Talmud is incomplete. Out of
the sixty-three treatises contained in the Mishna, it deals with
only thirty-nine; it is assumed that the rest were lost
Both Talmuds consist of two elements. One is called
Halacha, which is the juridical exposition and interpretation
of the Law; the other is called Agada, the ethical and poetical
interpretation of Scripture by means of the story-telling art.
The sages of old described the complementary relationship
between these two methods: “Bread — that is Halacha;
wine — that is Agada. By bread alone we cannot live.” It is
from the Agada that so many stories with profound ethical
meanings have been culled for inclusion in this collection.
Finally, we come to the Midrash. This is a body of inter-
pretative literature which was begun by the Tannaim simulta-
neously with their work on the Mishna, and was continued
for many centuries by their Rabbinic continuators until the
closing of the great Jewish schools in Babylonia in a.d. 1040.
A perceptive scholar has given an accurate description of its
contents and the spirit that animates it: “The Midrash is art
in the interest of religion; but above all it is art. It is the flow-
ering of the art creative instinct, snubbed and repressed else-
where, which here finds full freedom and scope. The
amazingly fecund and vital principle which shoots forth and
blossoms in this endless garden is a repressed instinct The
Jews were forbidden the plastic arts, because the Deity was
not to be modelled or drawn; and the mytho-plastic urge gen-
erally was frowned upon. But the myth-creating phantasy, the
mytho-poetic urge, banished and forbidden in the official
halls of the religion, finds its outlet here. And so we find this
starved power driven underground, emerging here in the
endless plenitude, from mere story-telling and parable and
play of fancy to images of tragic beauty and to supreme
flights of the creative imagination.”*
During the Middle Ages it was the Jews who served in
Christian Europe as the most important intermediaries for the
diffusion of the tales and fables of the East, such as the
Bidpai and Barlaam cycles. (For more on this subject see the
introduction to animal tales.) Nonetheless, Jews remained
* Professor H. Slonlmsky, On Reading the Midrash. In The Jewish Insti-
tute Quarterly, January, 1928, p. 2.
xxxii
INTRODUCTION
skilful originators of tales in their own right. There was, for
instance, the notable collection by Rabbi Nissim of Kairwan
(11th Century). While many of his stories were adaptations
from Agada and Midrash, quite a number were from other
Jewish sources. Another celebrated compilation, Sefer
Hasidim (Book of the Pious), adapted for the most part by
Rabbi Judah Hasid of Regensburg (c. 1200), consisted of
legends into which were patterned the cabalistic beliefs and
fancies of medieval German Jewry.
The invention of the printing press by Gutenberg marked a
great advance in the democratization of learning in Europe;
it stimulated a broader diffusion of culture even in the ghetto.
Yiddish compilations of folk tales, and also moralistic works
in which folk tales played an illustrative function, came off
the printing presses in considerable numbers during the sec-
ond half of the Sixteenth Century. The most widely read of
these were the Teitsch-Chumesh, Brantspiegel and Leb-Tov.
However, the most popular of all Yiddish folk tale collections
was the Ma’aseh Buch. More than half of its two hundred
and fifty-four tales were adaptations of Agada and Midrash
originals; many were of medieval Jewish vintage; and some
were even variants of Christian stories.
With the upsurge of the Cabala during the Fifteenth and
Sixteenth Centuries it was but natural that there should have
originated a great number of cabalistic legends in which the
drama of the miraculous and the demonological was fully ex-
ploited. Finally, with the advent of the mystical Hasidic
movement during the Eighteenth Century, a unique body of
legendary literature appeared in Yiddish concerning the con-
tinuators of the cabalists — the wonder-working Rabbi Israel
Baal-Shem, the founder of Hasidim, and his principal rab-
binic disciples. (For more on this subject see the introduction
to CABALISTS, MYSTICS AND WONDER-WORKERS.)
I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to Edmund Fuller
for his sensitive understanding and the discriminating taste he
brought to the shaping of this volume, and to Bertha Krantz
for the skilful and devoted hand with which she piloted the
book through its technical stages.
I also wish to thank Dr. Joshua Bloch of the New York
Public Library and his assistants: Marie Coralnik, Dora
INTRODUCTION
xxxiii
Steinglass and Fanny Spivack; Abraham Berger for gener-
ously allowing me to draw from his wide erudition in Jewish
lore; Mendel Elkin and the Yiddish Scientific Institute; the li-
brary staff of the Jewish Theological Seminary; the Jacob
Michael Jewish Music Collection and Joseph Levisohn, its li-
brarian. I also am indebted to my friend and father-in-law,
the late Morris Older; Ethel Older; M. Vaxer; Hillel Ausubel;
Bertha and Philip Shan; Ruth Rubin; Samuel Feldman, who
copied the music; Jacob Richman, author of Laughs from
Jewish Lore; and a great many other individuals too numer-
ous to mention.
Finally, I wish to acknowledge my deep indebtedness to
my wife, Marynn Older Ausubel, who worked side by side
with me in gathering and preparing the vast amount of
materials from which this volume has been culled; it was her
enthusiasm and perceptive understanding that helped bring
this arduous work to fruition.
N.A.
PART ONE
\i>
1
Jewish Salt
Jewish Salt
Such Oddsl
Two Jews sat in a coffee house, discussing the fate of their
people.
“How miserable is our lot,” said one. “Pogroms, plagues,
quotas, discrimination, Hitler, and the Ku Klux Klan . . .
Sometimes I think we’d be better off if we’d never been
bom!”
“Of course!” said the other. “But who has that much luck?
Not one in 50,000 . .
The Realist
After the smoke and thunder of the battle had died down at
Austerlitz, Napoleon wished to reward a number of men of
various nationalities who had fought like heroes that day.
“Name your wish and I will grant it to you, my gallant
heroes!” cried the Emperor.
“Restore Poland!” cried a Pole.
“It shall be done!” answered the Emperor.
“I’m a farmer — give me land!” cried a poor Slovak.
“Land it will be, my lad.”
“I want a brewery,” said a German.
“Give him a brewery!” ordered Napoleon.
Next it was the turn of a Jewish soldier.
“Well, my lad, what shall it be?” asked the Emperor, en-
couraging him with a smile.
“If you please, Sire, I would like to have a nice schmaltz
herring,” murmured the Jew, bashfully.
“Ma foil" exclaimed the Emperor, shrugging his shoulders.
“Give this man a herring!”
When the Emperor had left, the other heroes gathered
around the Jew.
“What a fool you are!” they chided him. “Imagine a man
can choose whatever he wants and all he asks for is a her-
ring! Is that the way to treat an Emperor?” . .
“We’ll see who’s the fool!” retorted the Jew. “You’ve asked
2
JEWISH SALT
3
for the independence of Poland, for a farm, for a brewery —
things you’ll never get from the Emperor. But you see, I’m a
realist. If I ask for a herring — maybe I’ll get it.”
Higher Mathematics
Two wise men of Chelm lay sweating in the steam bath one
day. To drive away the boredom of doing nothing they began
to discuss deep mathematical problems.
The first one said, “If, for instance, it takes four hours to
drive to Dvinsk with one horse — wouldn’t it be right to say
that if I drove with two horses it would only take me two
hours?”
“Correct as gold,” answered the other sage, filled with ad-
miration.
“Now, why couldn’t I drive to Dvinsk with four horses so
I’d get there in no time?” continued the mathematician.
“Why trouble to go to Dvinsk at all?” exclaimed the other.
“Just harness your four horses and stay right here.”
Richer than Rothschild
“If I were Rothschild,” said the melamed of Chelm, “I’d be
richer than Rothschild.”
“How is it possible?” asked a fellow-citizen.
“Naturally,” answered the melamed, “I’d do a litde
teaching on the side.”
A Lesson in Talmud
One day a country-fellow came to his rabbi. “Rabbi,” he said,
in the tongue-tied fashion of the unlettered in the presence of
the learned, “for a long time I have been hearing of Talmud.
It puzzles me not to know what Talmud is. Please teach me
what is Talmud.”
“Talmud?” The rabbi smiled tolerantly, as one does to a
child. “You’ll never understand Talmud; you’re a peasant.”
“Oh, Rabbi, you must teach me,” the fellow insisted. “I’ve
never asked you for a favor. This time I ask. Please teach
me, what is Talmud.”
“Very well,” said the rabbi, “listen carefully. If two bur-
glars enter a house by way bf the chimney, and find them-
selves in the living room, one with a dirty face and one with
a clean face, which one will wash?”
4
JEWISH SALT
The peasant thought awhile and said, “Naturally, the one
with the dirty face.”
You see,” said the rabbi, “I told you a fanner couldn’t
master Talmud. The one with the clean face looked at the
one with the dirty face and, assuming his own face was also
dirty, of course he washed it, while the one with the dirty
face, observing the clean face of his colleague, naturally as-
sumed his own was clean, and did not wash it.”
Again the peasant reflected. Then, his face brightening,
said, “Thank you. Rabbi, thank you. Now I understand Tal-
mud.”
“See,” said the rabbi wearily. “It is just as I said. You are
a peasant! And who but a peasant would think for a moment
that when two burglars enter a house by way of the chimney,
only one will have a dirty face?”
Hitting the BulVs Eye
Once Rabbi Elijah, the Gaon of Vilna, said to his friend, the
Preacher of Dubno, “Tell me, Jacob, how in the world do
you happen to find the right parable to every subject?”
The Preacher of Dubno answered, “I will explain to you
my parabolic method by means of a parable. Once there was
a nobleman who entered his son in a military academy to
learn the art of musketry. After five years the son learned all
there was to be learned about shooting and, in proof of his
excellence, was awarded a diploma and a gold medal.
“Upon his way home after graduation he halted at a vil-
lage to rest his horses. In the courtyard he noticed on the
wall of a stable a number of chalk circles and right in the
center of each was a bullet hole.
“The young nobleman regarded the circles with astonish-
ment. Who in the world could have been the wonderful
marksman whose aim was so unerringly true? In what mili-
tary academy could he have studied and what kind of medals
had he received for his marksmanship!
“After considerable inquiry he found the sharpshooter. To
his amazement it was a small Jewish boy, barefoot and in tat-
ters.
“ ‘Who taught you to shoot so well?’ the young nobleman
asked him.
“The boy explained, ‘First I shoot at the wall. Then I take
a piece of chalk and draw circles around the holes.’
JEWISH SALT
5
“I do the same thing,” concluded the Preacher of Dubno
with a smile. “I don’t look for an appropriate parable to fit
any particular subject but, on the contrary, whenever I hear a
good parable or a witty story I store it in my mind. Sooner or
later, I find for it the right subject for pointing a moral.”
Lost and Found
The old rabbi had left the room for a moment, then returned
to his studies, only to find his eye-glasses missing. Perhaps
they were between the leaves of his book? No. . . . Maybe
they were somewhere on the desk? No. . . . Surely they were
in the room. No. . . .
So, in the ancient sing-song, with many a gesture appropri-
ate to Talmudic disputation, he began:
“Where are my glasses? . . .
“Let us assume they were taken by someone. They were
taken either by someone who needs glasses, or by someone
who doesn’t need glasses. If it was someone who needs
glasses, he has glasses; and if it was someone who doesn’t
need glasses, then why should he take them?
“Very well. Suppose we assume they were taken by some-
one who planned to sell them for gain. Either he sells them to
one who needs glasses, or to one who doesn’t need glasses.
But one who needs glasses has glasses, and one who doesn’t
heed them, surely doesn’t want to buy them. ... So much
for that.
“Therefore . . . this is a problem involving one who needs
glasses and has glasses, one who either took someone else’s
because he lost his own, or who absentmindedly pushed his
own up from his nose to his forehead, and promptly forgot
all about them!
“For instance . .. . me!" And, with a triumphant sweep of
thumb to forehead, signalizing the end of his analysis, the
rabbi recovered his property.
“Praised be the Lord, I am trained in our ancient manner
of reasoning,” he murmured. “Otherwise I would never have
found them!”
So What?
A young boy approached his father, saying, “Please, father,
may I have an increase in my allowance?”
6
JEWISH SALT
The old man stroked his beard reflectively. “And if you
have an increase in your allowance, so what?”
“Then I’d be able to go to night school.”
“And suppose you go to night school. So what?”
“Then I could get a better job.”
“Suppose you get a better job. So what?”
“Then I could dress better and go places.”
“And suppose you dress better and go places. So what?”
“Why, I might meet a beautiful girl.”
“All right. You might meet a beautiful girl. So what?”
“I’d get married.”
“So, you’d get married. So what?”
“Why, papa, then I’d be happy l”
“So, you’re happy. So what? . . .”
Why Only One Adam 71*
Why did God create only one Adam and not many at a
time?
He did this to demonstrate that one man in himself is an
entire universe. Also He wished to teach mankind that he
who kills one human being is as guilty as if he had destroyed
the entire world. Similarly, he who saves the life of one single
human being is as worthy as if he had saved all of humanity.
God created only one man so that people should not try to
feel superior to one another and boast of their lineage in this
wise: “I am descended from a more distinguished Adam than
you.”
He also did this so that the heathen should not be able to
say that, since many men had been created at the same time,
it was conclusive proof that there was more than one God.
Lastly, He did this in order to establish His own power and
glory. When a maker of coins does his work he uses only one
mould and all the coins emerge alike. But the King of Kings,
blessed be His name, has created all mankind in the mould of
Adam, and even so no man is identical to another. For this
reason each person must respect himself and say with dig-
nity:
“God created the world on my account. Therefore let me
not lose eternal life because of some vain passion!”
* Numbered reference notes begin on page 485.
JEWISH SALT
7
His Fault 3
I once saw a man with a long beard who was riding upon an
ass which he was beating. He said to him, “Oh cursed beast!
If you did not wish to be ridden why did you become an
ass?”
It Was Obvious8
A Talmudic scholar from Marmaresch was on his way
home from a visit to Budapest. Opposite him in the railway
carriage sat another Jew, dressed in modem fashion and
smoking a cigar. When the conductor came around to collect
the tickets the scholar noticed that his neighbor opposite was
also on his way to Marmaresch.
This seemed very odd to him.
“Who can it be, and why is he going to Marmaresch?” he
wondered.
As it would not be polite to ask outright he tried to figure
it out for himself.
“Now, let me see,” he mused. “He is a modem Jew, well
dressed, and he smokes a cigar. Whom could a man of this
type be visiting in Marmaresch? Possibly he’s on his way to
our town doctor’s wedding. But no, that can’t be! That’s two
weeks off. Certainly this kind of man wouldn’t twiddle his
thumbs in our town for two weeks!
“Why then is he on his way to Marmaresch? Perhaps he’s
courting a woman there? But who could it be? Now let me
see. Moses Goldman’s daughter Esther? Yes, definitely, it’s
she and nobody else . . . 1 But now that I think of it that
couldn’t be! She’s too old — he wouldn’t have her, under any
circumstances! Maybe it’s Haikeh Wasservogel? Phooey!
She’s so ugly! Who then? Could it be Leah, the money-lend-
er’s daughter? N — no! What a match for such a nice man!
Who then? There aren’t any more marriageable girls in Mar-
maresch. That’s settled then, he’s not going courting.
“What then brings him?
“Wait, I’ve got it! It’s about Mottel Kohn’s bankruptcy
case! But what connection can he have with that? Could it be
that he is one of his creditors? Hardly! Just look at him sit-
ting there so calmly, reading his newspaper and smiling to
himself. Anybody can see nothing worries him! No, he’s not
a creditor. But I’ll bet he has something to do with the bank-
ruptcy! Now what could it be?
8
JEWISH SALT
“Wait a minute, I think I’ve got it. Mottel Kohn must have
corresponded with a lawyer from Budapest about his bank-
ruptcy. But that swindler Mottel certainly wouldn’t confide
his business secrets to a stranger! So it stands to reason that
the lawyer must be a member of the family.
“Now who could it be? Could it be his sister Shprinzah’s
son? No, that’s impossible. She got married twenty-six years
ago — I remember it very well because the wedding took place
in the green synagogue. And this man here looks at least
thirty-five.
“A funny thing! Who could it be, after all ... ? Wait a
minute! It’s as clear as day! This is his nephew, his brother
Hayyim’s son, because Hayyim Kohn got married thirty-
seven years and two months ago in the stone synagogue near
the market place. Yes, that’s who he is!
“In a nutshell — he is Lawyer Kohn from Budapest. But a
lawyer from Budapest surely must have the title ‘Doctor’! So,
he is Doctor Kohn from Budapest, no? But wait a minute! A
lawyer from Budapest who calls himself ‘Doctor’ won’t call
himself ‘Kohn’! Anybody knows that. It’s certain that he has
changed his name into Hungarian. Now, what kind of a
name could he have made out of Kohn? Kovacs! Yes, that’s
it — Kovacs! In short, this is Doctor Kovacs from Budapest!”
Eager to start a conversation the scholar turned to his trav-
elling companion and asked, “Doctor Kovacs, do you mind if
I open the window?”
“Not at all,” answered the other. “But tell me, how do you
know that I am Doctor Kovacs?”
“It was obvious,” replied the scholar.
He Had Him Coming and Going
A poor shopkeeper listened raptly to the rabbi’s sermon on
that Sabbath day in the synagogue. The rabbi preached, “He
who is poor in this life will be rich in the world to come; he
who is rich here, by God’s decree, will be poor in the next
world, for all men are equally God’s children and he is just
to them all.”
Several days later the poor shopkeeper went to see the
rabbi.
“Rabbi,” he asked anxiously, “do you really believe that
those who are poor in this world will be rich in the next?”
“No doubt about it!” emphatically answered the rabbi.
JEWISH SALT 9
“You know I’m a poor shopkeeper — do you mean to say
I’ll be rich in the world to come?”
“Of course!”
Overjoyed, the poor shopkeeper cried, “In that case, Rabbi,
lend me a hundred rubles. When I collect my riches in the
next world I’ll give them back to you.”
Without a word, the rabbi counted out one hundred shiny
silver rubles. The poor merchant could not believe his own
eyes. As he stretched out his hand to gather in the money, the
rabbi stopped him and asked, “What do you plan to do with
your money, my friend?”
“Buy a hew stock of merchandise.”
“Do you expect to make money on it?”
“It’ll sell like Channukah pancakes!”
“In that case,” said the rabbi, gathering up the money him-
self, “I can’t give you the hundred rubles. If you get rich here
you’ll be poor over there. So how in the world do you expect
to return the loan?”
The Fine Art of Fanning
For a full hour Mrs. Gutman from Suffolk Street handled ev-
ery fan on the pushcart, feeling them, smelling them, weigh-
ing them, trying to decide which one to buy.
“I’ll take this penny fan,” she finally said, giving the dis-
gusted peddler her coin.
She then went home with her purchase.
The following morning, bright and early, the peddler saw
her standing big as life before him.
“What is it now?” he asked.
Mutely she held up the broken remnants of the fan she
had purchased the day before.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I want my money back!” she demanded.
“How much did you pay?”
“A penny.”
“And how did you use it?”
“What kind of a foolish question is that? Naturally I
waved it in front of my face from side to side.”
“Is that what you do with a penny fan, Mrs. Gutman, eh?”
cried the peddler, outraged. “That’s what you do with a five
cents fan! With a penny fan you hold the fan still and wave
your head!”
JEWISH SALT
10
For Honor
A stranger came to town. He stopped the first Jew in the
market-place and asked him, “Can you please tell me where
Reb Yankel, the warden of the synagogue, lives?”
“Oh,” said the man, “you probably mean Reb Yankel, the
Stutterer, whose father is Reb Avremel ‘Eczema.’ He lives
further down near the church.”
When the stranger reached the church he asked a passerby,
“Can you please tell me where Reb Yankel lives?”
“Oh, you mean Reb Yankel with the hernia, the wife
beater?” answered the passerby. “He’s buried three wives al-
ready. You’ll find him over there.”
The stranger went on to where he was directed, but, to
make sure, he asked a shopkeeper.
“Can you please tell me where Reb Yankel lives?”
“Oh, Reb Yankel!” answered the shopkeeper. “You mean
Reb Y&hkel-Goniff, who goes into bankruptcy every other
year! There he stands — over there!”
The stranger approached Reb Yankel and, after introduc-
ing himself, asked him, “Tell me, Reb Yankel, what on earth
do you get out of being warden in this town?”
“Nothing! Not even a groschen!”
“Then why do you do it?”
“What a question to ask! I do it for the honor!”
No Target
To a rabbinical school in Old Russia the military came in
search of recruits. The entire student body was drafted.
In camp, the students amazed their new masters by their
marksmanship on the rifle range. Accordingly, when war
broke out, the Yeshiva youths were ordered en masse into the
front lines.
Shortly after the contingent arrived an attack began. Far in
the distance, in No Man’s Land, an advancing horde of Ger-
mans appeared. The Czarist officers called out, “Ready . . .
aim . . . fire!”
But no fire was forthcoming.
“Fire!” yelled the officers. “Didn’t you hear? Fire, you idi-
ots, firel”
Still nothing happened.
Beside himself with rage, the commanding officer de-
manded, “Why don’t you fire?”
JEWISH SALT
11
One of the youths mildly answered, “Can’t you see . . .
there are people in the way. Somebody might get hurtl”
Pain and Pleasure
A Jewish father took his little boy to the bath for the first
time. When they jumped into the pool the little boy began to
shiver with cold and cried, “Oy, papa, oyl”
His father then led him out of the pool, rubbed him down
with a towel and dressed him.
“Ah-h, papa, ah-hl” purred the little fellow, tingling with
pleasant warmth.
“Isaac,” said the father thoughtfully, “do you want to
know the difference between a cold bath and a sin? When
you jump into a cold pool you first yell ‘Oy!’ and then you
say ‘Ah-h.’ But when you commit a sin you first say ‘Ah-h,’
and then you yell ‘oy!’ ”
The Rabbi’s Nourishment
A village Jew was asked, “How can your rabbi survive on
the small salary you’re paying him?”
“Our rabbi would have died of hunger a long time ago. It’s
just his luck that on account of piety he has decided to fast
every Monday and Thursday. That sustains him.”
Cheap
Yossel and Mendel were partners in a small village inn. One
day, having scraped together a few rubles, they drove to town
to buy a keg of whiskey.
On the way back the weather became cold and blustering
and the two partners were teased by the desire to take a
drink of whiskey. But to do so became a serious problem.
Had they not solemnly promised each other when they had
placed the keg on the wagon not to touch a drop of it? Their
entire livelihood for the week depended upon it.
Now Yossel was a resourceful man. He looked into his
pockets and found a five-kopek piece, so he said to Mendel,
“Here is a five-kopek piece. Sell me a drink of whiskey from
your half of the keg.”
Mendel, being a businessman, answered, “Since you have
cash I have to sell you a drink.”
So he poured him a little glassful. . . .
12
JEWISH SALT
No sooner had Yossel downed the drink than he became
warm and cheerful. Mendel’s nose, on the other hand, got
bluer from the cold. How he envied that rascal Yossel for
his luck in having the five-kopek piece!
But suddenly he felt the coin in his pocket. After all, the
coin is mine now, he said to himself. Why can’t I buy a drink
from him now? So he said to his partner, “Yossel, here is a
five-kopek piece. Pour me a drink from your share of the
keg!”
Yossel, being a businessman, said, “Cash is cash!”
And he poured Mendel a drink and took back his five-ko-
pek piece.
In this fashion Mendel and Yossel kept on buying a drink
from each other with the same five-kopek piece. By the time
they reached the inn they were thoroughly drunk.
“What a miracle!” cried Yossel. “Imagine, an entire keg of
whiskey sold for one five-kopek piece!”
He Ran for His Health
It was in the days of Czar Nicholas II. Two Jews were walk-
ing along a boulevard in Moscow. One had a residence per-
mit, the other didn’t. Suddenly a policeman appeared.
“Quick — run!” whispered the one without the permit.
“When the policeman sees you run he will think you have no
permit, so he will run after you. This will give me a chance
to get away, and it won’t hurt you any because you can show
him your permit.”
So the Jew with the permit started to run. As soon as the
policeman saw him do so he went in hot pursuit. After a few
moments he caught up with him.
“Ahah!” gloated the policeman. “So you have no permit!”
“No permit! What makes you think I have no permit?”
asked the Jew, showing it to him.
The policeman looked bewildered.
“Why then did you run away when you saw me?”
“My doctor told me always to run after taking a physic.”
“But didn’t you see me running after you?”
“Sure, I did. But I thought your doctor had given you the
same advice!”
JEWISH SALT
13
World-Weary*
For two and a half years the rival Talmudic schools of Sham-
mai and of Hillel debated the question but they could not
resolve it.
The adherents of Shammai argued that it would have been
far better for man had he never been created. The followers
of Hillel maintained that it was good that man had been
created.
Finally, both schools concluded their controversy on a
compromise: that it would have been far better for man had
he never been created, but, since he is already here on earth,
it is his obligation to make the best of it and live uprightly.
Truth in Gay Clothes
The Preacher of Dubno, Jacob Krantz, was once asked why
the parable has such persuasive power over people. The
Preacher replied, “I will explain this by means of a parable.
“It happened once that Truth walked about the streets as
naked as his mother bore him. Naturally, people were scan-
dalized and wouldn’t let him into their houses. Whoever saw
him got frightened and ran away.
“And so as Truth wandered through the streets brooding
over his troubles he met Parable. Parable was gaily decked
out in fine clothes and was a sight to see. He asked, ‘Tell me,
what is the meaning of all this? Why do you walk about
naked and looking so woebegone?’
‘Truth shook his head sadly and replied, ‘Everything is go-
ing downhill with me, brother. I’ve gotten so old and decrepit
that everybody avoids me.’
“ ‘What you’re saying makes no sense,’ said Parable.
“People are not giving you a wide berth because you are old.
Take me, for instance, I am no younger than you. Nonethe-
less, the older I get the more attractive people find me. Just
let me confide a secret to you about people. They don’t like
things plain and bare but dressed up prettily and a little artifi-
cial. I’ll tell you what. I will lend you some fine clothes like
mine and you’ll soon see how people will take to you.’
‘Truth followed this advice and decked himself out in Par-
able’s gay clothes. And lo and behold! People no longer
shunned him but welcomed him heartily. Since that time
Truth and Parable are to be seen as inseparable companions,
esteemed and loved by all.”
14
What Is Greatness ?®
JEWISH SALT
Once there was a man of great learning, versed in every
branch of knowledge. In addition, he had a beautiful voice
and played on the violin like a master. One day he fell sick
and the doctors advised him to move to a warm climate. This
he did, and settled in a small town among ordinary people of
little education.
As is customary, they asked him, “What is your calling?”
“I do cupping.”
Afterwards, when they were alone, his wife said to him, “I
can’t understand how a great scholar like you, with so many
accomplishments, should have mentioned cupping as the one
thing you know how to do! What kind of honor or profit do
you expect from it?”
“The people of this town,” explained her husband, “are
poor people with simple needs. Were I to recite to them my
important accomplishments they simply wouldn’t know how
to value them, nor would they know what to do with them.
They would only look upon me as a superfluous man who
could be of no earthly use to them. But, ah, how different
with a man who can do cupping! To them he is a very im-
portant and useful person. They will have great respect for
me, I assure you.”
The Modest Saint
A disciple once was boasting rapturously before strangers
about his rabbi:
“My rabbi, long life to him! He fasts every single day ex-
cept, of course, on the Sabbath day and on holidays.”
“What a lie!” mocked a cynic. “I myself have seen your
rabbi eating on weekdays!”
“What do you know about my rabbi?” the faithful disciple
snorted disdainfully. “My rabbi is a saint and very modest in
his piety. If he eats it is only to hide from others the fact that
he is fasting!”
The Poor Are Willing
The rabbi had prayed long and fervently.
“And what have you prayed for today?” asked his wife.
“My prayer is that the rich should give bigger alms to the
poor,” answered the rabbi.
JEWISH SALT 15
“Do you think God has heard your prayer?” his wife
asked.
“I’m sure He has heard at least half of it,” replied the
rabbi. "The poor have agreed to accept.”
There Are Miracles and Miracles
A Hasid had heard so much of the sanctity of a certain rabbi
that he journeyed all the way from his village to the town
where the great rabbi lived.
“What miracles has your rabbi performed?” inquired the
visiting Hasid of one of the rabbi’s disciples.
“There are miracles and miracles,” replied the disciple.
‘Tor instance, the people of your town would regard it as a
miracle if God should do your rabbi’s bidding. We, on the
other hand, regard it as a miracle that our rabbi does God’s
bidding.”
The Expert
When you tell a joke to a Frenchman he laughs three times:
once when you tell it to him, the second time when you ex-
plain it, and the third time when he understands it — for the
Frenchman loves to laugh.
When you tell a joke to ap Englishman he laughs twice:
once when you tell it to him and again when you explain
it — but understand it he never can, for he’s too stuffy.
When you tell a joke to a German he laughs only once:
when you tell it to him. First of all, he won’t let you explain
it to him because he’s so arrogant. Secondly, even if he did
ask you to explain it he wouldn’t understand because he has
no sense of humor.
When you tell a story to a Jew — before even you’ve had a
chance to finish he interrupts you impatiently. First of all, he
has heard it before! Secondly, what business have you telling
a joke when you don’t know how? In the end, he decides to
tell you the story himself, but in a much better version than
yours.
No Loan l
Two chance acquaintances, both recent arrivals from Poland,
met on Delancey Street in New York’s East Side.
“Hello! How’s business?”
16
JEWISH SALT
“All right"
“In that case, will you lend me five dollars?”
“Why should I lend you five dollars? I hardly know you!”
“A funny thing! In my town in the old country people
wouldn’t lend me any money because they knew me, and in
this country they won’t lend any because they don’t know
me.”
A Quick Prayer
Once, after prayer in the synagogue, the rabbi asked Hershel
Ostropolier, “How is it you pray so fast? It’s a disgrace! Why
does it take me twice as long to say my prayers?”
“Who can compare with you, Rabbi?” answered Hershel.
“You, Rabbi, have, may no evil eye fall on you, a lot of gold
and silver, a fine house, four horses and a carriage, and
money in the bank. It takes time to go over all these matters
with God when you pray to him to preserve them for you.
Now take me, on the other hand, what have I got? Only a
shrewish wife, eight children and a flea-bitten goat. In my
prayer to God, all I have to say is: ‘Wife, children,
goat!’ — and I’m through!”
Schnapps Wisdom
The old shammes began to lose his hearing. The doctor,
whom he consulted, told him that too much alcohol was
making him deaf.
“You mustn’t drink anymore!” he rebuked him.
For one interminable month the old shammes scrupulously
avoided liquor and his hearing gradually returned. But sud-
denly he was tempted and took to the bitter drop again. This
time he became deaf as a door-post and used an earhom.
Once more he came to consult the doctor.
“Didn’t I tell you not to drink any schnappsT’ roared the
doctor into his earhom.
The old shammes shrugged his shoulders wearily.
“Sure you told me, and I did exactly as you told me,” he
answered. “But, believe me, doctor, nothing I heard was
worth one good schnappsl"
He Should Have Taken More Time
The rabbi ordered a pair of new pants for the Passover holi-
days from the village tailor. The tailor, who was very unreli-
JEWISH SALT 17
able, took a long time finishing the job. The rabbi was afraid
that he would not have the garment ready for the holidays.
On the day before Passover the tailor came running all out
of breath to deliver the pants.
The rabbi examined his new garment with a critical eye.
“Thank you for bringing my pants on time,” he said. “But
tell me, my friend, if it took God only six days to create our
vast and complicated world, why did it have to take you six
weeks to make this simple pair of pants?”
“But, Rabbi!” murmured the tailor triumphantly, “just
look at the mess God made, and then look at this beautiful
pair of pants!”
It Pays to Be Ignorant
A poor luftmensch came to New York from Kovno. He had
neither trade nor calling and, when he found that the streets
of America were not lined with gold as he had been told in
the old country, he became a peddler of needles, pins, and
hooks and eyes. Life was hard, insults were many, and the
profits were small. So he kept his eyes open for something
better. When he heard that a shammes was wanted in a
synagogue on Attorney Street he hurried to apply for the
post.
“Can you read and write English?” asked the president.
“No,” answered the peddler.
“Sorry, mister,” replied the president. “In America a
shammes has got to know how to read and write. New York
is not Boiberik, you know.”
So the poor man sighed and went sadly away.
But in the course of time he began to prosper. He turned
to real estate and amassed a fortune.
One day, when he needed a quarter of a million dollars to
finance a real estate venture, he went to his banker and asked
for a loan. He got it instantly.
“Write your own check,” said the president of the bank
flatteringly, handing him his pen.
“I — I can’t write at all,” stammered the realtor in embar-
rassment. “I’ve only learned to sign my name.”
“Tsk-tsk, how wonderful!” exclaimed the banker. “If you
have accomplished so much without knowing how to read or
write, imagine what you would have been today if you did
know how!”
18
JEWISH SALT
‘Sure!” muttered the realtor* “I would have been the
shammes of the Attorney Street Synagogue!”
Equally Logical
A group of Nazis surrounded an elderly Berlin Jew and de-
manded of him, “Tell us, Jew, who caused the war?”
The little Jew was no fool. “The Jews,” he said, then
added, “and the bicycle riders.”
The Nazis were puzzled. “Why the bicycle riders?”
“Why the Jews?” answered the little old man.
The Life of a Jew t
Ivan Serafimovitch, the driver, was taking his Jewish pas-
senger, Shmul the melamed, from Boryslav to Drohobycz.
From the other end, from Drohobycz, Mikhail Stepanovitch
was driving Moishe the shammes, to Boryslav.
When Ivan and Mikhail met on the road, each going in the
opposite direction, they drew up their carts and exchanged a
pleasant good-morning.
“I see, Mikhail Stepanovitch,” sneered Ivan, “that you have
that horsefaced Jew Moshka for a passenger.”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like him?” Mikhail snapped
back. “He’s nicer than that scarecrow of yours, Shmul.”
“I want to serve notice on you, Mikhail Stepanovitch,”
threatened Ivan, “that no pot-bellied sot like you can abuse
my passenger and get away with it.”
“Just look who’s talking, you goggle-eyed pig!” snorted
Mikhail. “One more word from you and I’ll give it to your
Shmul in the snout!”
Just try and do it!” challenged Ivan, defiantly.
Without a word, Mikhail jumped off his cart and crossed
to the other side of the road. Climbing into Ivan’s cart he
punched Shmul in the nose.
When Ivan saw that his passenger’s face was covered with
blood, he was incensed and began to tremble with rage.
How dare you hit my Shmul! I won’t let you get away
with it!” he shouted. “Since you hit my Shmulka I’m going to
hit your Moshka!”
He wasn t at all lazy and got out of the cart, crossed the
road to Mikhail’s cart and let fly with his fist into Moshka’s
face.
JEWISH SALT 19
When Ivan saw Moshka’s eye swell up, he was speechless
with rage.
“With God and the Czar as my witnesses, I warn you,
Mikhail Stepanovitch — this is the limit!”
And, so saying, he fell upon Shmul, the melamed, and
pounded him within an inch of his life.
“Never fear,” shrilled Mikhail. “I’ll match you in every-
thing anytime. I’ll turn your Moshka into pulp for what
you’ve done to my Shmulka!”
A man of his word, Mikhail fell upon Moshka and
knocked him unconscious.
For a moment Ivan Serafimovitch and Mikhail Stepano-
vitch glared at each other with a deadly hatred. Then each
spat out contemptuously, mounted his cart and rattled away.
Nebichl
It happened in a Russian town in the days of the Czar. A
party of convicts was being lead to prison. It included three
Jews. As they shuffled through the streets loaded with chains
some Jewish women began to commiserate loudly with them.
“Why are they taking you?” they mournfully asked one
Jewish convict.
“It’s on account of my residence permit,” he answered with
a sigh.
Hearing this, the women wailed, “Oy, nebich! What a
wrong! and just for a mere residence permit!
“And why are they punishing you?” they asked the second
Jew.
“It’s because I didn’t want to be a soldier in the army of
that Haman, Czar Nicolai!”
“Oy, nebich!” wailed the women even more loudly. “What
a shame — what cruelty! And just because he didn’t wish to
serve that dog of dogs, that anti-Semite!”
Then the third Jewish convict, a muscular fellow with
squint eyes and a scar on his face, passed by.
“Tell us — why are they taking you?” the women inquired.
“Who, me?” he asked piteously. “I am nebich a goniff.”
The Modest Rabbi
The wonder-working tzaddik seemed -fast asleep. Nearby sat
his worshipful disciples, carrying on a whispered conversation
with bated breath about the holy man’s unparalleled virtues.
20
JEWISH SALT
“What piety!” exclaimed one disciple with rapture. “There
isn’t another like him in all Poland!”
Who can compare with him in charity?” murmured an-
other ecstatically. “He gives alms with an open hand.”
“And what a sweet temper! Has anyone ever seen him get
excited?” whispered another with shining eyes.
“Ai! What learning he’s got!” chanted another. “He’s a sec-
ond Rashi!”
At that the disciples fell silent. Whereupon the rabbi slowly
opened one eye and regarded them with an injured ex-
pression.
“And about my modesty you say nothing?” he asked
reproachfully.
The Secret of Power*
The waters were rising until they almost reached the Throne
of Glory. Thereupon the Almighty cried out: “Be still, O
waters!”
Then the waters became vainglorious and boasted: “We
are the mightiest of all creation — let us flood the earth!”
At this God grew wrathful and rebuked the waters: “Do
not boast of your strength, ye vain braggarts! I will send
upon you the sands and they will raise up a barrier against
you!”
When the waters saw the sand and of what tiny grains it
consisted they began to mock: “How can such tiny grains as
you stand up against us? Our smallest wave will sweep over
you!”
When the grains of sand heard this they were frightened.
But their leader comforted them: “Do not fear, brothers!
True enough, we are tiny and every one of us by himself is
insignificant. The wind can carry us to all the ends of the
earth, if we all only remain united, then the waters will
see what kind of power we have!”
When the little grains of sand heard these words of com-
fort they came flying from all the comers of the earth and
lay down one on top of the other and against each other
upon the shores of the seas. They rose up in mounds, in hills,
and in mountains, and formed a huge barrier against the
waters. And when the waters saw how the great army of the
JEWISH SALT
21
grains of sand stood united they became frightened and re-
treated.
Circumcisional Evidence
A young Talmudic scholar left Minsk and went to America.
After many years he returned to the old country. His aged
mother could hardly recognize him. He was dressed in the
very latest fashion.
“Where is your beard?” his mother asked, aghast.
“Nobody wears a beard in America.”
“But at least you keep the Sabbath?”
“In America almost everybody works on the Sabbath.”
The old mother sighed.
“And how is it with the food?” she asked hopefully.
“Ah, mama,” answered the son, apologetically, “it’s too
much trouble to be kosher in America.”
The old mother hesitated. Then, in a confidential voice, she
whispered, “Tell your old mother, son — are you still circum-
cised?”
The Sled Story
The snow was beautiful, but Mendel felt that each snowflake
was a dagger thrust into his heart.
“Everything happens to me!” he moaned. “Just when I get
my home fixed up okay, the landlord tells me the building is
coming down. I gotta move! I slave and I slave and at last I
find a place around the comer. How shall I move? I struggle
and I straggle and I get everything arranged for moving to-
morrow. And now it snows! And what a snow! Everything is
upset. Woe is me!”
It was truly a dark, dark night for Mendel. Shaking his
head, he undressed wearily and climbed into bed, but he
couldn’t get settled. “Such troubles, what’ll I do?” He twisted
and turned restlessly. “What is there to do?” He twisted and
turned again and this time a thought struck him.
“I know! I’ll borrow Goldberg’s sled. It’s simple. I’ll pile
the stuff on it and one trip — two trips — ten trips. It’s done.
Wonderful. Okay. Thank God.” He turned and settled back
comfortably. He was just about dozing off when another
thought struck him.
22
JEWISH SALT
What if Goldberg won’t lend his sled?
“Nonsense! Why shouldn’t he lend his sled? Of course he
will. Forget it!”
What if Goldberg won’t lend his sled?
“Why not? What am I going to do to it? Can you imagine
that — Goldberg not willing to lend me his sled? Oh! The
scoundrel! A plague on him! What a nerve! Not to lend me
his sled! No! No! It can’t be. Of course he’ll lend it to me.”
He turned around and settled himself for sleep.
Goldberg won’t lend his sled!
“Goldberg not lend his sled? It’s unthinkable. After what I
did for him! Who got him his first job? Who showed him the
ropes? Where did he get his meals when his wife was sick
that time? I even introduced him to his wife. And wasn’t I his
best man? Didn’t I sign the paper for him for the Morris
Plan? When he had the trouble that time didn’t I give him
the money out of my own pocket? And now he wouldn’t lend
me his lousy two-dollar sled! That’s too much. I won’t stand
for it. Why! Why ”
He scrambled out of bed, pulled on his trousers, thrust his
coat around his shoulders, dashed out into the street, rah to
Goldberg’s house, and started jabbing crazily at Goldberg’s
doorbell, muttering the while, “The stinker — the low-life — the
no-good — ” until finally the sleepy Goldberg came to the
door.
“Goldberg,” shouted Mendel, “Goldberg, you no-good, you
ingrate, you loafer! You know what you can do with your
rattle-trap sled? You and your sled can go to hell! Good —
bye!”
A Rabbi for a Day
The famous Preacher of Dubno was once journeying from
one town to another delivering his learned sermons. Wherever
he went he was received with enthusiasm and accorded the
greatest honors. His driver, who accompanied him on this
tour, was very much impressed by all this welcome.
One day, as they were on the road, the driver said, “Rabbi,
I have a great favor to ask of you. Wherever we go people
heap honors on you. Although I’m only an ignorant driver I’d
like to know how it feels to receive so much attention. Would
you mind if we were to exchange clothes for one day? Then
JEWISH SALT 23
they’ll think I am the great preacher and you the driver, so
they’ll honor me instead!”
Now the Preacher of Dubno was a man of the people and
a merry soul, but he saw the pitfalls awaiting his driver in
such an arrangement.
“Suppose I agreed — what then? You know the rabbi’s
clothes don’t make a rabbi! What would you do for learning?
If they were to ask you to explain some difficult passage in
the Law you’d only make a fool of yourself, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t you worry, Rabbi — I am willing to take that
chance.”
“In that case,” said the preacher, “here are my clothes.”
And the two men undressed and exchanged clothes as well
as their callings.
As they entered the town all the Jewish inhabitants turned
out to greet the great preacher. They conducted him into the
synagogue while the assumed driver followed discreetly at a
distance.
Each man came up to the “rabbi” to shake hands and to
say the customary: “ Sholom Aleichem, learned Rabbi!”
The “rabbi” was thrilled with his reception. He sat down in
the seat of honor surrounded by all the scholars and digni-
taries of the town. In the meantime the preacher from his
comer kept his merry eyes on the driver to see what would
happen.
“Learned Rabbi,” suddenly asked a local scholar, “would
you be good enough to explain to us this passage in the Law
we don’t understand?”
The preacher in his comer chuckled, for the passage was
indeed a difficult one.
“Now he’s sunk!” he said to himself.
With knitted brows the “rabbi” peered into the sacred book
placed before him, although he could not understand one
word. Then, impatiently pushing it away from him, he
addressed himself sarcastically to the learned men of the
town, “A fine lot of scholars you are! Is this the most difficult
question you could ask me? Why, this passage is so simple
even my driver could explain it to you!”
Then he called to the Preacher of Dubno: “Driver, come
here for a moment and explain the Law to these ‘scholars’!”
24
All Right
JEWISH SALT
There was once a rabbi who was so open-minded that he
could see every side of a question. One day a man came to
him with the request that he grant him a divorce.
“What do you hold against your wife?” asked the rabbi
gravely.
The man went into a lengthy recital of his complaints.
“You are right,” he agreed when the man finished.
Then the rabbi turned to the woman.
“Now let us hear your story,” he urged.
And the woman in her turn began to tell of the cruel mis-
treatment she had suffered at her husband’s hands.
The rabbi listened with obvious distress.
“You are right,” he said with conviction when she finished.
At this the rabbi’s wife, who was present, exclaimed, “How
can this be? Surely, both of them couldn’t be right!”
The rabbi knitted his brows and reflected.
“You’re right, tool” he agreed.
Why the Hair on the Head Turns Gray Before the Beard1
The Czar once went on a journey. On the way he met a poor
Jewish farmer who was cultivating his field. The Czar saw
that the farmer’s hair was gray while his beard was black. At
this he was filled with wonder.
“Do explain this mystery to me,” the Czar asked him.
“Why is the hair on your head gray and your beard black?”
“My beard didn’t start growing until after I was Bar-
Mitzvah,” replied the Jew. “Consequently, since the hair on
my head is many years older than the hair in my beard, it
turned gray long before.”
“How clever of you!” cried the Czar with admiration.
“Promise me, on your word of honor, never to repeat this ex-
planation to anyone. I will allow you to reveal the secret only
after you have seen me one hundred times.”
The Czar then continued on his journey.
Upon his return home he assembled all his ministers, wise
men and counsellors.
“I will put to you a very puzzling question,” he told them.
“See if you can answer it.”
“Speak, O King!” cried the wise men.
JEWISH SALT 25
“Why is it,” asked the Czar, “that the hair on the head be-
comes gray long before the hair in the beard does?”
The wise men remained mute with astonishment. They did
not know what to answer.
‘Take av month’s time to think it over,” said the Czar.
“Then come back to me with your answer.”
The wise men went away and devoted themselves single-
mindedly to the solution of the problem the Czar had put to
them.
As the month was nearing its end and still they had not
found an answer they were filled with gloom. But they found
a straw of hope to clutch at when one of the ministers re-
called that on the day the Czar had put the puzzling question
to them he had come back from a journey outside the capital.
So he undertook to track the matter down to its source.
The minister followed the route the Czar had taken and he
chanced upon the same poor Jewish farmer with whom the
Czar had spoken. He recognized him by the fact that the hair
on his head was gray and the hair in his beard was black.
“What is the explanation for this strange fact?” he asked
the Jew.
The Jewish farmer answered, “Alas, I’m not allowed to
give you the answer!”
“I’ll pay you well if you’ll reveal your secret to me,”
coaxed the king’s counsellor.
The poor Jew hesitated. Then he said, “I’m a poor man.
I’m desperately in need of some money. If you will pay me a
hundred silver rubles I’ll reveal to you my secret.”
After he got the hundred silver rubles, he gave him the an-
swer he had given to the Czar.
The minister then returned to St. Petersburg and gave the
Czar the answer. But the Czar understood immediately how
he had gotten the answer. So he sent for the Jew.
“Do you know what punishment you deserve for breaking
your promise to me?” cried the Czar, angrily. “Didn’t I ask
you to keep your answer a secret?”
“Indeed, you did!” replied the Jew. “But you must also re-
call that you gave me permission to talk about it after I had
seen you a hundred times.”
“Insolent fellow!” cried the Czar. “How dare you lie so
brazenly to me! You very well know I only saw you once!’’
“I’ve told you the truth!” persisted the Jew. And he drew
out of a bag a hundred silver rubles.
26
JEWISH SALT
“See for yourself,” said he. “On every one of these rubles
is graven your image. And, having looked upon them all, I
have seen you one hundred times. Was I wrong in giving
your minister the answer?”
“What a clever man!” exclaimed the Czar with rapture.
“What you deserve is a reward, not punishment! Remain with
me here in my palace so that I may always have the benefit
of your counsel.”
And so the poor Jewish farmer lived with the Czar in his
palace in St. Petersburg, and was the first among his coun-
sellors. The Czar never made a decision without consulting
him first, and, wherever he went, the Jew went along with
him.
The Way Anti-Semites Reason 8
As the Emperor Hadrian was being carried through the
streets of Rome a Jew passed by.
“Long life to you, O Emperor!” the Jew greeted him.
“Who are you?” asked the Emperor.
“I’m a Jew.”
“How dare you, a Jew, greet me!” Hadrian raged. “Chop
his head off!” he ordered his soldiers.
Another Jew, who chanced to pass by just then and saw
what had happened to the first Jew, decided not to greet the
Emperor.
“Who are you?” Hadrian demanded.
“I’m a Jew.”
“How dare you, a Jew, pass me by without greeting me?”
raged Hadrian. “Chop his head off!” he ordered his soldiers.
The Emperor’s counsellors were filled with astonishment.
“O Emperor, we cannot grasp the meaning of your ac-
tion,” they said. “If you had the first Jew decapitated because
he greeted you, why did you do the same thing to the second
Jew because he did not greet you?”
“Are you trying to teach me how to handle my enemies?”
retorted the Emperor.
The Relativity of Distance
Three weary Jewish refugees stood before the Paris repre-
sentative of the Jewish Joint Distribution Committee.
“Where are you all going?” he asked them.
27
JEWISH SALT
“I’m on my way to Rome,” said the first.
“London is my destination,” said the second.
“My plan is to go to South Africa,” said the third.
“South Africa? Why so far?” the agent asked wonderingly.
Far? Far from where?” wistfully countered the refugee.
PART TWO
\i/
Heroes
Introduction
“Who is a hero?’” rhetorically asks a sage in the Talmud.
“He who becomes master over his passions” is his own answer.
The pursuit of virtue as a heroic quest is a fundamental tradi-
tion in Jewish life and lore. It is the seal of the Jews’ ethical indi-
viduality as a people. It is their moral justification in their own
eyes. For countless generations they have been encouraged by
their leaders and teachers to pattern their lives in this religious-
social ideal in both thought and action. Their folklore reflects this
with dazzling clarity. The righteous, the wise man, is the hero,
not the warrior who sheds human blood.
This extraordinary attitude was induced by the peculiar histor-
ic experiences of the Jews and was conditioned by more than
twenty-five hundred years of this mode of living, thinking and
feeling. “Sons of the Compassionate” — is what Jews proverbially
call themselves. In their traditional view the moral and physical
powers are everlastingly opposed to each other. For precisely that
reason the warrior-hero, so overwhelmingly adulated by other
peoples, was largely neglected by them. The folklorists of the
Midrash almost gloss over the exploits of Samson against the
Philistines. They glow with more genuine excitement over David,
the sweet singer of Zion, than over David, the slayer of the giant
Goliath, or David the triumphant warrior-king. To be sure there
are exceptions — such as the heroic deeds of the Maccabees and
Bar Kochba. But their celebration in Jewish legend does not rest
on their warlike exploits or their feats of bravery alone. It is pri-
marily because these men were the inspired leaders of their
people in its struggle for liberty.
The characteristic attitude toward the warrior is quaintly
described in Jewish lore by the contrast made in the characters of
the Patriarch Jacob and his brother Esau. The latter, sumamed
“the Wicked” in Jewish folklore, is portrayed as a fierce warrior
and hunter, preoccupied with fighting and the chase. Jacob, on
the other hand, is depicted as a gentle scholar, always found in
the House of Study in pursuit of divine instruction. The same at-
titude is expressed in the amusing medieval engraving found in
many editions of the Haggadah, the liturgy of the Seder which is
the home service of Passover Eve. The picture presents four types
of questioners: the sage, the wicked man, the fool and the idiot.
The sage is lovingly portrayed as a scholar in the eloquent atti-
tude of expounding the 1 Torah. The wicked man, on the other
30
INTRODUCTION 31
hand, is represented as a fierce knight in armor running with the
spear in hand.
This does not by any means suggest that Jews were like the
Buddhists, unalterably opposed to war. Their struggles for their
national freedom, beginning with the Egyptian bondage, refutes
this idea. Jews were always opposed to war and violence on
moral and humanitarian grounds, except when they fought in
self-defense or for the preservation of their country and faith.
Then they fought as did only few other peoples in history — with
valor and an utter disregard for their lives. For instance, during
the two-year siege of Jerusalem by Titus, more than a million
Jews perished resisting the hated enemy, an event hardly paral-
leled in the wars of Antiquity. But fighting as an end in itself, or
to acquire ill-gotten gains, was considered wicked and anti-social
beginning with the era of the canonical Prophets.
In place of the strong men and the warrior heroes of other
peoples the Jews substituted tzaddikim, saintly and righteous men.
But these were far from being insipid in their gentleness, hang-
dog in their piety, or submissive because of their abhorrence of
violence. They were in reality men who stood up with dignity for
their beliefs, and often sacrificed their lives in defense of them. In
medieval, and in later folklore as well, these tzaddikim took on
the sublimated character of the hero-knights of chivalry. In bat-
tling against the brute violence of their enemies they let their vir-
tue be their sword and their Torah-leaming, their shield. When
the rabbi-knight was obliged to defend his religion and his people
in disputations with Christian theologians before great throngs
who treated him with scorn and mockery, he had to endure an in-
finitely more hazardous ordeal than that required of the Christian
knight who went jousting cap-a-pie against friendly rivals at the
tourneys of chivalry. The Jew was rarely the victor in this un-
equal contest and the direst misfortune fell upon entire communi-
ties of his brethren because of it. And yet, strange to relate, he
remained a hero in the eyes of the people, for he had fought
without fear or compromise as their champion, and with the only
weapons sanctioned by their morality — wisdom and truth.
Those legends and tales, dealing with cabalists and Hasidic
rabbis, endow their tzaddikim with invincible wonder-working
powers. Many of them, like the knights of chivalry, sallied forth
into the world to pursue quests of high valor. They were not ac-
companied by armed esquires, but by worshipful disciples. Their
aim was not to rescue beautiful maidens held captive by wicked
knights or to win a king’s ransom by feats of arms. They went
forth to battle against the power of evil, to redress wrongs, and
to protect their people against threatening dangers. By the super-
natural power of their virtue, and sometimes with the magical aid
of the Shem-hamforesh, the secret name of God (as in the case
32
INTRODUCTION
of Joseph della Reyna), they fought and triumphed over the
wicked, even over the Angel of Death and Satan and over all his
hosts of darkness. It even happened that these tzaddikim rose up
to question God himself. This they did, not out of blasphemous
intent or ah arrogant spirit, but with the flame of truth and com-
passion burning within them. We have only to turn to the Kad-
dish of Rabbi Levi-Yitzchok, the Eighteenth Century Hasidic
tzaddik, in which he questions God’s justice toward his people.
Jews in all parts of the world still sing its stirring strains:
Therefore I, Levi-Yitzchok ben Sara of Berditchev say:
Lo azus mimkomi! I shall not stir from here!
An end must come to all this!
Israel’s suffering must end!
lsgadal v’iskadash shmay rahbo!
Magnified and sanctified be the name of the Lord!
N.A.
1
Wise Men
Wise and Learned Men
Introduction
The chacham, the wise man, has always been the beau ideal of
Jewish tradition, and therefore of folklore as well. To a consider-
able degree, the chacham resembles the Greek conception of the
philosopher. Knowledge and reason lead him to wisdom. And
what is the highest wisdom? Virtue, of course. For this reason
the chacham is required to be not only learned but righteous! He
must have a passion for truth and possess genuine piety whiclw.
dwells in the pure spirit alone. Above all, he must love peopflT
and seek justice. This pattern was laid down by Moses and the
Prophets and it is remarkable how many Jews have attempted to
emulate them ever since.
Before one could become wise one first had to acquire
knowledge. “He who lacks knowledge lacks everything,” said the
sages of the Talmud. By knowledge was meant, not just any kind
of knowledge, but knowledge of the Torah. And yet all knowl-
edge, regardless of the source, was revered. That is why so
many rabbis studied Greek philosophy, the natural sciences, medi-
cine, and other peoples’ wisdom literature. One of the rabbis of
the Second Century expressed this very directly: ‘The man who
understands astronomy and does not pursue the study of it, of
him it is written in Scripture: They regard not the work of the
Lord, neither have they considered his handiwork.’ ” One over-en-
thusiastic writer in the Talmud even went as far as to say: “A
scholar is greater than a prophet.”
The Yiddish-speaking Jews of the East European ghettos, until
very recently representing the great majority of the Jews of the
world, took this rabbinical dictum quite seriously. They venerated
the role and function of the lamdan (scholar) above all other
callings. For generations fond mothers would put their children
to sleep with the haunting lullaby:
33
34
HEROES
What is the best schoirah (merchandise)?
My baby will learn Toirah (Torah),
S’forim (holy books) he will write for me.
And a pious Jew he’ll always be.
Wise and learned became synonymous concepts in Jewish
thinking and the man who possessed both learning and wisdom
was known as a talmid chochem (“a disciple of the wise”). This
was a title of honor that represented the ultimate in social appre-
ciation and recognition. Quite generally, although not always so,
learning for Jews did not serve as an end in itself but as a means
leading to a higher goal; it had to be endowed with the rapture
of consecration. Therefore, the ancient rabbis said: “As with
God, wisdom is a gift of free grace, so should man make it a
free gift.”
This was a conclusion that patently arose out of a profound so-
cial conscience; it was an impulse of democratic urgency in which
learning and wisdom found their validity in improving men’s
minds as well as their way of life. Jewish tradition could see little
merit in the saint who chose to prove his virtue by living alone in
the wilderness. Likewise with the scholar. It was not enough that
he sought knowledge and understanding for his own illumination.
Possession of them imposed upon him the higher obligation to
share them to the utmost with others less knowing or less fortu-
nate than he. This exalted conception of learning led to the rab-
binic opinion that it was wrong of the teacher of the Torah to
accept remuneration for his instruction, for one must not traffic
for gain with sacred values. With this in mind most of the Tan-
naim and the Amoraim, the architects of the Mishna, Midrash
and Talmud, did not teach for gain but earned their livelihood in
other ways at various trades and callings. Thus the illustrious
Rabbi Hillel toiled as a common wood-cutter; Rabbi Yohanan
ha-Sandler was a maker of sandals; Rabbi Isaac Nappaha had a
smithy; the great Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah was a skilled
maker of needles; Rabbi Resh Lakesh was a night watchman in a
vineyard; Rabbi Abba Hilkiah, the famous “rain-maker,” was an
agricultural day-laborer and Rabbi Shammai, the rector of a fa-
mous Jerusalem academy, was a land-surveyor. Thus, the dignity
of labor was given increased luster by this example of the rabbis.
The scholar, the wise man, had no obsessive need of worldly
good. The pampering of the senses and a life of ease and luxury
were interdicted for him by tradition. It was considered that they
would only lead him into error and corrupt his moral values, and
thus, without virtue, he no longer would be wise. In the great
academy that Yohanan ben Zakkai founded in Jabneh after the
destruction of Jerusalem, the sages taught the social creed of the
scholar: “I who study Holy Lore am a man; my brother, the un-
WISE MEN
35
lettered one, is also a man. I do my wort in the House of
Study — he is occupied as a tiller of the soil. I rise in the morning
to earn my bread; he too with his toil. Even as he is not vainglo-
rious about his work so am I humble in my own. Perhaps you
will say that I do important work and he not. That is not true.
Our sages have taught us that he who does much and he who
does little are equal if only their intention is good.”
Of course the Jews were not the only people in Antiquity who
revered wisdom. The Egyptians, the Babylonians and the Greeks
were equally devoted to it For instance, the Book of Proverbs
owes much to the sayings of the Egyptian scribe Amenemope.
Greek philosophical ideas, and even modes of expression, are
found in Jewish wisdom literature. The Book of Ecclesiastes is full
of Stoic and Epicurean doctrines. And as for Job, which contains
a panegyric to wisdom ( chochma ) in Chapter Twenty-eight, it is
soaked in the twilight skepticism of Hellenist thought. No less
Greek are the sayings of Ben Sira and yet, like Job, they are so
profoundly Hebraic. None but a Jew trained in the ethical ration-
alism of Judaism could have possibly written his biting social
satires so graphically full of the turmoil of the age. And his wis-
dom is the wisdom of the lucid mind, of the critical and apprais-
ing faculty that receives its impulse from a worldliness that is not
parochial, but recoils from the obscure and the mystical.
What is too wonderful for thee, do not seek.
What is hidden from thee, do not search.
Understand that which is permitted thee;
And have no concern with mysteries.
The Hellenist intellectuals among the Jews of the first two cen-
turies b.c. did their best to reconcile Jewish wisdom with Greek
philosophy. For instance, Aristobulus, the first Jewish philosopher
in Alexandria (180-146 b.c.), claimed: “Plato followed the Laws
(i.e., the laws of the Torah) given to us, and had manifestly
studied all that is said in them.” He also tried to show the simi-
larity between the teachings of Moses and those of the major
Greek philosophers, saying that wisdom or chochma was es-
teemed equally by the Peripatetics and King Solomon. This belief
had wide currency and even became a fixed tradition among the
Christian Church Fathers.
So many of the stories in this compilation, whether serious or
humorous, reveal with folkloristic directness the Jewish attitude
towards learning and wisdom, scholars and wise men. Of great
interest is the Midrash parable, The Most Vaulable Merchandise.
In a world in which the homeless and driven Jew was forced by
his enemies to become a despised huckster of material goods he
discovered by experience that learning was the only “merchan-
36
HEROES
dise” that had enduring value. It could neither be lost nor stolen
nor snatched from him by violence as in the case of his material
chattels. Therefore, the moral of the story, bitter-exalted in its
flash of insight: “Learning is the best merchandise.” Ever since
the Talmudic era this saying has been on the lips of Jewish folk,
uttered with a certainty and an intensity that has had few paral-
lels in general lore.
Jewish learning never holds a recommendation for the wise
man or scholar to become divorced from life. The rabbinic anec-
dote, Learning That Leads to Action, carries its own answer and
justification for knowledge. Also the mind, by which one is able
to comprehend learning and wisdom, must not be exalted above
all other human faculties. Feeling and sentiment are never to be
divorced from wisdom. We find this truth dwelled upon in the
Agada piece, The Best and the Worst Things. What is the best
thing? A good heart. The worst? A bad heart.
N.A.
The Romance of Akiba1
In Jerusalem there once lived a very rich man whose name
was Kalba Sabua. He had an only daughter, Rachel, who was
beautiful and clever. The sons of the best families in the land
proposed to her in marriage but she rejected them all.
“Neither riches nor good family concern me,” she said.
The man I will marry must, above all, have a noble charac-
ter and a good heart.”
Among the shepherds who watched over her father’s flocks
and herds was a youth whose name was Akiba. Rachel fell in
love with him and one day said to her father, “I want Akiba
for my husband.”
u Have you gone out of your mind?” cried her father.
How can you expect me to become the father-in-law of my
servant? Never mention this to me again!”
“Father, give me Akiba for my husband!” pleaded Rachel.
“I will not marry another.”
“If you insist on marrying him you must leave my house!”
threatened her father.
Rachel said no more but her mind was made up. She left
her father’s house and a life of luxury and fled with Akiba.
When Kalba Sabua heard of this he took a solemn oath:
“My daughter shall not inherit even the least of my pos-
sessions.”
WISE MEN
37
Outside the city Akiba and his wife put up a tent. Having
but little money they suffered privation and lived on dry
bread alone. None the less, Rachel was happy and sustained
the spirit of Akiba.
“I would rather live with you in poverty than without you
in riches,” she told him.
Their bed consisted only of a straw pallet. If a strong wind
began to blow at night it would scatter the straw about.
Rachel noticed that Akiba no longer slept but was wrapped
in gloom.
“Why are you so sad, my husband?” she asked.
“It’s on your account, Rachel,” he replied. “You must suf-
fer so, and all on account of me!”
At that very moment someone called from outside their
tent.
‘‘What is it you wish?” asked Rachel.
“Have pity on me!” answered the voice. “My wife has
fallen sick and I have no straw to make a bed for her. Give
me some, if you can.”
And Rachel gave him some straw. Then she said to Akiba,
Just see — you consider us unfortunate but there are people
who are even poorer than we.”
“Bless you for your words! They have consoled me!” cried
Akiba.
Often Akiba had expressed the wish to attend the Houses
of Study m Jerusalem in order to acquire learning.
One day Rachel said to him, “You must carry out your
plan to become an educated man. I know it will be very diffi-
cult for you but I will gladly remain behind and not stand in
your way. I will patiently wait for your return.”
Thereupon Akiba arose and made ready for his journey to
Jerusalem. His wife accompanied him on the way for a dis-
tance. Then she bade him fond farewell and turned sadlv
back. 1
As he walked along the road Akiba said to himself, “I’m
almost forty years old and now it may be too late for me to
study the Word of God. Who knows if I will ever be able to
achieve my goal!”
Suddenly he came upon several shepherds sitting near a
spring. At the mouth of the spring lay a stone which had
many grooves.
“What caused these grooves?” he asked the shepherds.
38
HEROES
“They were made by drops of water that steadily trickled
upon the stone.”
Hearing this Akiba rejoiced. He said to himself, “If a stone
may be softened how much easier will it be to soften my
mind!”
And he continued on his journey until he came to a school
for children. There he learned how to read and write and was
not ashamed to study with children. After that he entered the
Houses of Study. He became a pupil of Rabbi Nahum Ish
Gamzu. Afterwards he studied with Rabbi Eliezer ben
Hyrkanos and Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah.
Each day, before he went to the House of Study, Akiba
would go into the forest to chop some wood. A part of it he
sold in order to nourish himself, a part he kept for his own
use, and the rest he used to pillow his head at night.
When Rachel heard of his hard manner of living she
wished to help him. She cut off her hair which she sold, and
sent him the money.
Despite his poverty, Akiba studied night and day. Before
long he outdistanced all the other students in knowledge and
in wisdom. When they met with a difficult problem they
asked him to solve it.
Once Akiba stood outside the House of Study. At that time
his comrades were discussing a very difficult question in a
matter of Law. Akiba suddenly heard one say, “The solution
is outside.”
By that he clearly meant Akiba, who was capable of an-
swering the question.
Akiba heard him but he did not stir from his place.
The students then continued to discuss another passage of
the Torah but soon discovered that they did not understand
it.
“The Torah is outside!” called another student.
Akiba heard him but pretended he did not understand the
words. And still he did not enter the House of Study.
Once again the students met with a knotty problem.
“Is Akiba outside?” one of them cried. “Do come in,
Akibal”
This time Akiba, since he had been addressed, entered and
sat himself at the feet of Rabbi Eliezer and his face was filled
with the radiance of illumination.
For twelve long years Akiba stayed away from his wife.
WISE MEN 39
One day he said to himself, “It is high time that I return to
her and give her some happiness.”
As he reached her door he heard a woman’s voice saying,
“What has happened to you, Rachel, happens to all disobedi-
ent children. Your husband has been away twelve years. All
this time you have been living in solitude and poverty. Who
knows whether he’ll ever come back again! Had you but lis-
tened to your father you would have been rich and happy to-
day!”
“Were my husband here to take my advice,” replied
Rachel, “he’d remain away another twelve years and continue
his studies, undisturbed.”
When Akiba heard her speak thus he suppressed his bitter
yearning for her and turned away.
For twelve more years he continued his studies, this time
away from Jerusalem. His fame became so great that the
number of his students grew to twenty-four thousand.
When the second twelve years were completed Akiba de-
cided to return to Jerusalem. The multitude of his students
accompanied him there.
Soon the report of his return spread throughout Jerusalem.
All the inhabitants streamed into the streets to welcome him
back. Among them, unknown to each other, were also Kalba
Sabua and Rachel; they had not met for twenty-four years.
Rachel was so poorly dressed that her neighbors had said
to her, “Let us lend you some good clothes. You cannot go
forth dressed like a beggar to meet such a great man as
Akiba.”
“A man such as Akiba is unconcerned with the way people
are dressed!” replied Rachel.
When Akiba appeared among his students Rachel elbowed
her way through the throng. She fell at his feet and with
streaming eyes kissed the hem of his robe. Akiba’s students
wished to drive the intruder away.
“Let her be, she is my wife!” cried Akiba. “Know that had
it not been for her I would never have been your teacher. It
was she who urged me on to devote myself to learning. She
has waited for me for twenty-four long years!”
And speaking thus he raised her from the ground, kissed
her and went with her into her poor hut.
In the meantime, Kalba Sabua, who did not know that
Rabbi Akiba, the foremost sage in Israel, was his former
shepherd and his son-in-law, was determined to see him. He
40
HEROES
wished to ask Rabbi Akiba to release him from the solemn
oath he had once taken to disinherit his daughter. So he went
to Rabbi Akiba and laid the matter before him.
“And why did you reject the shepherd?” asked the sage,
without making his identity known.
“He was an ignorant man!”
“And where is your daughter now, and where is her hus-
band?”
“I do not know, Master. I haven’t seen them for twenty-
four years. If you will release me from my oath I will go and
seek them to the ends of the earth.”
All this Rachel heard from an adjoining room. Unable to
restrain her feelings any longer she burst into the room, cry-
ing to her father, “I am your daughter, Rachel, and Rabbi
Akiba is your son-in-law!”
Amazed and overawed, Kalba Sabua regarded his children.
Then he embraced them and cried, “My good daughter, you
were right when you married Akiba against my wishes.
Blessed be both of you!”
The Rabbi and the Inquisitor
The city of Seville was seething with excitement. A Christian
boy had been found dead, and the Jews were falsely accused
by their enemies of having murdered him in order to use his
blood ritually in the baking of matzos for Passover. So the
rabbi was brought before the Grand Inquisitor to stand trial
as head of the Jewish community.
The Grand Inquisitor hated the rabbi, but, despite all his
efforts to prove that the crime had been committed by the
Jews, the rabbi succeeded in disproving the charge. Seeing
that he had been bested in argument, the Inquisitor turned his
eyes piously to Heaven and said:
“We will leave the judgment of this matter to God. Let
there be a drawing of lots. I shall deposit two pieces of paper
in a box. On one I shall write the word ‘guilty5 — the other
will have no writing on it. If the Jew draws the first, it will be
a sign from Heaven that the Jews are guilty, and we’ll have
him burned at the stake. If he draws the second, on which
there is no writing, it will be divine proof of the Jews’ inno-
cence, so we’ll let him go.”
Now the Grand Inquisitor was a cunning fellow. He was
anxious to bum the Jew, and since he knew that no one
WISE MEN
41
would ever find out about it, he decided to write the word
“guilty” on both pieces of paper. The rabbi suspected he was
going to do just this. Therefore, when he put his hand into
the box and drew forth a piece of paper he quickly put it
into his mouth and swallowed it.
“What is the meaning of this, Jew?” raged the Inquisitor.
“How do you expect us to know which paper you drew now
that you’ve swallowed it?”
“Very simple,” replied the rabbi. “You have only to look
at the paper in the box.”
So they took out the piece of paper still in the box.
“There!” cried the rabbi triumphantly. “This paper says
‘guilty,’ therefore the one I swallowed must have been blank.
Now, you must release me!”
And they had to let him go.
Shallow Judgment 2
A princess once said to Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah, “It is
true that you are a sage, but why are you so ugly? Imagine
God pouring wisdom into such an ugly vessel as yours!”
Rabbi Joshua answered, “Tell me, O .Princess, in what sort
of vessels does your father keep his wine?”
“In earthen jars, of course,” answered the Princess.
Rabbi Joshua pretended to be amazed.
“How can that be?” he exclaimed. “Everybody keeps wine
in earthen jars, but your father, after all, is the King! Surely
he can afford finer vessels!”
“In what sort of vessels do you think my father ought to
keep his wine?”
“For a King, gold and silver vessels would be more fitting.”
The Princess then went to her father and said, “It is not fit-
ting that a King like you should keep his wine in earthen jars
like the commonest man.”
The King agreed and ordered that all his wine should be
poured into gold and silver vessels. This was done, but before
long the wine turned sour.
Angered, the King asked his daughter, “From whom did
you get the advice you gave me?”
“From Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah.”
So the King sent for Rabbi Joshua.
“What made you give my daughter such wicked advice?”
he asked angrily.
42
HEROES
Rabbi Joshua then told him how the Princess had referred
to him as “wisdom in an ugly vessel,” and that he had
wanted to prove to her that beauty is sometimes a handicap.
. The King remonstrated : “Aren’t there people who combine
m themselves both beauty and great talents?”
Rabbi Joshua answered, “Rest assured— had they been
ugly their talents would have been better developed.”
The Vanity of Rabbi Mar Zutrcfi
Rabbi Mar Zutra was on his way from Sikhra to Marhuza
at the same time that Rabbi Raba and Rabbi Safra were on
their way from Marhuza to Sikhra. When Rabbi Mar Zutra
saw them approaching he was under the impression that they
had come to welcome him to Marhuza. So he said to them.
You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble and come
out so far to welcome me!”
“You are mistaken, Rabbi,” Rabbi Safra replied. “Had we
known that you were coming, rest assured we would have
gone to even greater pains to greet you!”
Then they parted.
When Rabbi Mar Zutra had passed, Rabbi Raba re-
proached Rabbi Safra.
Did you have to tell him the truth, that we had not come
to welcome him? You offended him.”
“Had I not told him the truth it would have meant that we
were deceiving him,” Rabbi Safra insisted.
“Not at all!” answered Rabbi Raba. “We would not have
deceived him; he would have deceived himself.”
Grief in Moderation 4
When the Temple was destroyed by Titus the Wicked, there
were among Jews many, particularly Pharisees, who took a
vow never again to eat meat or drink wine.
“Why don’t you eat meat and drink wine?” Rabbi Joshua
asked them.
They lamented: “How can we eat flesh that formerly was
brought as a sacrifice upon the Temple altar when now we
may no longer sacrifice? How can we drink wine which the
priests used to pour upon the Temple altar when now we no
longer have any altar?”
“In that case,” argued Rabbi Joshua, “we shouldn’t eat any
WISE MEN 43
bread either, because, since the destruction of the Temple,
sacrifices of flour also have been abolished.”
“You’re right,” they answered, “we can substitute fruit for
bread.”
“How can we eat fruit?” Rabbi Joshua asked. “The first
fruits were also brought to Jerusalem for the Temple’s use
and now that such offerings have been abolished, we
shouldn’t eat them.”
“Possibly we could eat fruits from which such offerings did
not have to be made,” ventured the Pharisees.
“Let’s stop drinking water,” Rabbi Joshua continued, “be-
cause the water-libation for the altar has also been abol-
ished.”
At this the Pharisees fell silent; they did not know what to
answer. Seeing that he had brought them back to reason.
Rabbi Joshua said to them:
“My children, pay heed to what I’m going to tell you. It
would be impossible to expect us not to grieve, for indeed a
bitter fate has befallen us. However, one must not indulge too
much in grief. It is wrong to impose upon the Jewish people
burdens that they cannot bear.”
The Virtue of the Commonplace
A rabbi once had a dispute with a Jew-baiting theologian.
Said the latter, “You Jews brag about your world-mission and
are proud of the fact that you are God’s Chosen People — yet
everybody tramples you underfoot! Aren’t you deceiving
yourselves?”
The rabbi replied, “When our Father Jacob fled before the
wrath of Esau, God appeared to him in a dream and said:
‘And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth.’ What, may I
ask, brings greater use to man than the earth? Just the
same — men trample it underfoot. . . .”
Why God Gave No Wisdom to Foolsfi
A woman of high rank once asked Rabbi Yose bar Halaftah,
“Why is it written in the Book of Daniel that God bestows
wisdom on the wise? Rightly, shouldn’t God instead have
bestowed wisdom on the fools who really need it?”
“Let me explain this matter to you with a parable,” an-
swered Rabbi Yose. “Imagine that two people wish to borrow
44
HEROES
money from you. If one is rich and the other poor, to which
of the two will you lend the money?”
To the rich, of course,” the woman answered.
“Why so?” asked Rabbi Yose.
The woman answered, “If the rich man loses the money I
lend him he’ll find some way to return it to me. But where
will the poor man get the money to repay me?”
“May your ears hear what your lips are saying!” exclaimed
Rabbi Yose. “Were the Almighty to bestow wisdom on the
fools, what do you think they would do with it? They would
only sprawl themselves licentiously in the theatres and at the
baths and play at being clever the livelong day. That’s why
He gave His wisdom to the wise who seek after wisdom in
the Houses of Study.”
Learning Knows No Class9
There were two families that lived in Sepphoris. One consist-
ed of aristocrats, educated people who were wise in counsel.
The other one consisted of common, undistinguished people.
Each day, when the two families proceeded to the house of
the Nasi to pay their respects to him, the aristocrats would
enter first and the common people could go in only after the
others had left.
Now it happened that these insignificant people began to
apply themselves to study, and in time they became great
scholars. Then they demanded that they get precedence over
the aristocrats when they went to pay their respects to the
Nasi.
This incident raised a great deal of discussion everywhere.
When Rabbi Simeon ben Lakish was asked for an opinion he
passed the question on to Rabbi Yohanan who concluded:
“A bastard who is a scholar is superior to a High Priest
who is an ignoramus.”
Learning That Leads to Action1
Rabbi Tarfon sat conversing on serious matters with other
learned men in a house in Ludd. The question was raised:
“Which is more important — learning or action?”
Rabbi Tarfon replied, “Action is more important. Of what
earthly use are fine words and preachments unless they are
put into practice?”
WISE MEN
45
Rabbi Akiba upheld the contrary viewpoint.
“Learning is more important,” he said.
The sages finally concluded that both were right.
“Learning is more important when it leads to action,” they
declared.
The Parable of the Two Gents8
Once, after he had listened to his counsellor, Nicholas of Va-
lencia, speaking evil against the Jews, King Don Pedro was
very much perplexed in his own mind.
“There is a wise man among the Jews whose name is
Ephraim Sancho,” the king recalled. “Bring him to me.”
So they brought Ephraim Sancho before the king.
“Which faith is superior, yours or ours?” the king sternly
demanded of Ephraim.
When Ephraim heard the king’s question he was thrown
into confusion and said to himself: “Be wary, for the enemies
of Israel have laid a trap for you in order to do you harm.”
But to the king he said: “Our faith, O King, suits us better
for, when we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt, our God, by
means of many wondrous signs and miracles, led us out of
the land of bondage into freedom. For you Christians, how-
ever, your own faith is the better because, by its means, you
have been able to establish your rule over most of the earth.”
When King Pedro heard this he was vexed. “I did not ask
you what benefits each religion brings to its believers,” he
said. “What I want to know is: which are superior — your or
our own precepts?”
And again Ephraim Sancho was thrown into confusion. He
said to himself: “If I tell the king that the precepts of his reli-
gion are superior to mine I shall have denied the God of my
fathers and shall therefore deserve all the punishments of Ge-
henna. On the other hand, should I tell him that the precepts
of my religion excel his he will be sure to have me burned at
the stake.”
But to the king Ephraim said: “If it please the King — let
me ponder his question carefully for three days, for it re-
quires much reflection. At the end of the third day I will
come to him with my answer.”
And King Pedro said: “Let it be as you say.”
And for the three days that followed the spirit of Ephraim
was rent within him. He neither ate nor slept but put on
46
HEROES
sackcloth and ashes and prayed for divine' guidance. But,
when the time arrived for him to see the king, he put all fear
aside and went to the palace with his answer.
When Ephraim Sancho came before the king he looked
downcast.
“Why are you so sad?” the king asked him.
“I am sad with good reason for, without any cause whatso-
ever, I was humiliated today,” answered Ephraim. “I will let
you be my judge in this matter, O King.”
“Speak!” said King Don Pedro.
Ephraim Sancho then began: “A month ago to this day a
neighbor of mine, a jeweler, went on a distant journey. Be-
fore he departed in order to preserve the peace between his
two bickering sons while he was away, he gave each of them
a gift of a costly gem. But only today the two brothers came
to me and said: ‘O Ephraim, give us the value of these gems
and judge which is the superior of the two!’
“I replied: ‘Your father himself is a great artist and an ex-
pert on precious stones. Why don’t you ask him? Surely he
will give you a better judgment than I.’
When they heard this they became enraged. They abused
and beat me. Judge, O King, whether my grievance is just!”
“Those rogues have mistreated you without cause!” cried
the king. “They deserve to be punished for this outrage.”
When Ephraim Sancho heard the king speak thus he re-
joiced. “O King!” he exclaimed. “May your ears hear the
words your own mouth has spoken, for they are true and
just. Know that such two brothers as these were Esau and
Jacob, and each of them received for his own happiness a
priceless gem. You have asked me, O King, which of the two
gems is superior. How can I give you a proper answer? Send
a messenger to the only expert of these gems — Our Father in
Heaven. Let Him tell you which is the better.”9
When King Pedro heard Ephraim Sancho speak thus he
marvelled greatly. “Behold, Nicholas,” he said to his coun-
sellor. “Consider the wisdom of this Jew. Since he has spoken
justly then justice shall be done to him. He deserves, not re-
buke and harm, but respect and honor. You, however,
deserve to be punished, for you have spoken nothing but evil
slanders against the Jews.”
WISE MEN
47
The Best and the Worst Things10
Once Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai said to his five disciples:
“What is the most desirable thing to strive for in life?”
Rabbi Eliezer said: “A good eye.”
Rabbi Joshua said: “A good friend.”
Rabbi Yose said: “A bad neighbor.”
Rabbi Simeon said: “Wisdom to foretell the future.”
Rabbi Eleazar said: “A good heart.”
Rabbi Yohanan then said to his five disciples: “The words
of Eleazar please me most, because his thought includes all
the rest.”
At another time Rabbi Yohanan asked his disciples: “What
is the thing that man should avoid most in life?”
Rabbi Eliezer said: “Ah evil eye.”
Rabbi Joshua said: “An evil friend.”
Rabbi Yose said: “A bad neighbor.”
Rabbi Simeon said: “One who borrows money and doesn’t
return it.”
Rabbi Eleazar said: “A bad heart.”
Rabbi Yohanan then said: “The words of Eleazar please
me most because his thought includes all of yours.”
God’s Delicacy11
The Emperor once said to Rabbi Gamaliel, “Your God is a
thief! Why did he make Adam fall asleep and then steal a rib
from him?”
The Emperor’s daughter interrupted and said to Rabbi Ga-
maliel, “Let me answer my father.” Then turning to the Em-
peror, she said, “Call a judge!”
“What do you need a judge for?” the Emperor asked in
surprise.
“Thieves entered my apartment at night,” the Princess re-
plied. “They stole a silver jug, but in its place they left one
made of gold.”
“May such robberies occur every night!” laughed the Em-
peror.
“Well then,” cried the Princess. “Didn’t such good fortune
happen to Adam? God stole from him a rib, but in its place
he left him a devoted wife.”
“In my opinion,” rejoined the Emperor, “it was wrong of
God to make Adam fall asleep. If he wanted to take his rib
he shouldn’t have done it stealthily.”
48
HEROES
“Father!” cried the Princess. “Order that a chunk of meat
be brought.”
Wonderingly, the Emperor did as she asked.
The Princess then took the raw meat and in the presence .
of her father, put it into the hot ashes to roast. When it was
ready for serving she said to him, “There now, father, eat the
meat!”
But the Emperor shuddered with disgust and refused to
eat. He had first seen the meat when it was raw and after
that, when it was still covered with ashes.
“It nauseates me!” he cried.
“There you see!” said the Princess triumphantly. “Had
Adam been awake and seen how God cut out his rib and
created a woman from it he would have forever been
nauseated at the sight of her.”
An Author's Life After Forty
A young Talmudic scholar who had just completed a learned
work came to Rabbi Elijah, the Gaon of Vilna, and begged
him for a testimonial.
Rabbi Elijah regarded his visitor with gentle compassion.
“My son,” he said to him, “you must face the stem reali-
ties. If you wish to be a writer of learned books you must be
resigned to peddle your work from house to house like a ven-
dor of pots and pans and suffer hunger until you’re forty.”
“And what will happen after I’m forty?” asked the young
writer, hopefully.
Rabbi Elijah smiled encouragingly, “By the time you’re
forty you’ll be quite used to it!”
An Unpredictable Life
One day, centuries ago, as a rabbi was on his way to the
House of Study he suddenly met the duke of the province
followed by his retinue.
“Where are you going this bright morning, Rabbi?” the
duke asked him sarcastically.
“I’m sure I don’t know, Your Grace,” replied the rabbi
with a doubtful air.
“You don’t know where you’re going? How dare you speak
so impudently to me, Jew? I’ll teach you to have proper re-
spect for a Christian prince!” cried the duke, and he ordered
the rabbi thrown into a dungeon.
WISE MEN
49
“What did I tell you, Your Grace?” called out the rabbi.
“Now you see for yourself that I was right when I said I did
not know where I was going.”
“How so?” asked the duke curiously.
“You see, Your Grace, I left my home this morning in or-
der to go to the House of Study — and where do I wind up?
In a dungeon!”
Stale Ancestors — Stale Learning
Usually the orthodox rabbis of Europe boasted distinguished
rabbinical genealogies, but Rabbi Yechiel of Ostrowce was an
exception. He was the son of a simple baker and he inherited
some of the forthright qualities of a man of the people.
Once, when a number of rabbis had gathered at some fes-
tivity, each began to boast of his eminent rabbinical ances-
tors. When Rabbi Yechiel’s turn came, he replied gravely, “In
my family, I’m the first eminent ancestor.”
His colleagues were shocked by this piece of impudence,
but said nothing. Immediately after, the rabbis began to ex-
pound Torah. Each one was asked to hold forth on a test
culled from the sayings of one of his distinguished rabbinical
ancestors.
One after another the rabbis delivered their learned disser-
tations. At last it came time for Rabbi Yechiel to say some-
thing. He arose and said, “My masters, my father was a
baker. He taught me that only fresh bread was appetizing
and that I must avoid the stale. This can also apply to learn-
ing.”
And with that Rabbi Yechiel sat down.
The Most Valuable Merchandise 12
A great scholar went on an ocean voyage together with a
number of merchants who were conveying goods to sell in
distant lands.
“What kind of merchandise do you carry?” they asked
him.
“My merchandise is more valuable than yours,” he an-
swered.
But what it was he would not say.
The merchants were astonished and looked high and low in
every part of the ship. But there was no sign anywhere of his
goods. So they laughed at the scholar.
50
HEROES
“He is a simpleton!” they said.
After they had sailed several days pirates attacked them
and robbed the passengers of all their possessions, including
the very clothes on their backs.
When the ship reached port at last, the merchants found
themselves without any money or clothes. Being strangers in
a foreign land they were in a sorry plight and endured great
hardships.
The scholar, on the other hand, had no sooner disem-
barked than he made his way to the House of Study and sat
down to expound the Law. When the people saw what a
learned man he was they showed him great honor. They gave
him clothing, food and lodging. When he went into the street
the dignitaries of the town escorted him with great deference.
Seeing all this, his fellow passengers, the merchants, were
abashed.
“Forgive us for having mocked at yon,” they begged him.
“Help us! Intercede for us with the Elders to give us a crust
of bread, for we are hungry! Now we see that it was no idle
boast when you told us that your merchandise was more
valuable than ours. Learning is the best merchandise!”
Learning and Knowing
Once there was a prodigy of learning at a Talmudic College
in Poland. His fame was spread far and wide and great schol-
ars came to talk to him, and marvel over his wonderful store
of knowledge.
One day an eminent Talmudic authority arrived and asked
the head of the institution, “Tell me, Rabbi! Is it true that the
young man knows so much?”
‘To be candid with you,” answered the rabbi with a smile,
“the young fellow studies so much I don’t see where he can
find the time to know!”
Spinoza
A freethinker once said mockingly to Rabbi Pinchas of
Koretz, “Would you like to know what the philosopher
Spinoza wrote in one of his works? He wrote that man in no
way stands higher than an animal and that he has the same
nature.”
“If that is so,” remarked the rabbi, “how do you explain
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51
the fact that up until now the animals haven’t produced a
Spinoza?”
Double-Talk
Once there was a young sinner whose conscience bothered
him, but because he was vain he found it hard to confess his
sins to his rabbi. So he fell on a stratagem. He went to the
rabbi and pretended that a friend had sent him to beg for the
remission of his sins. He therefore recited all the misdoings of
his “friend” who he said was too ashamed to appear and
plead for himself.
Now the rabbi penetrated his pretense, so he said to him,
“What a fool your friend must be! Couldn’t he come himself?
After all, he could have said just what you have told me —
that he had come in the interest of a friend. In that way he
would have spared himself any embarrassment.”
A Reason for Every Custom 13
It happened once that a well-to-do merchant, who was a
clever and worldly man, maintained his newly married son
and his wife in his household. The son had a fine character
and a good heart. He devoted himself to charitable works
and helped every poor man who asked for his assistance.
In time the young wife gave birth to a son; and so, in
honor of the occasion, the happy grandfather arranged a
great feast on the day of circumcision.
Shortly before the festivities were to begin the merchant’s
son asked, “Tell me, father, what arrangements have you
made for the seating of the guests? If you do the conven-
tional thing and seat the rich at the head of the table and the
poor near the door, it will distress me. You know very well
how I love the poor. At my own celebration, at least, let me
honor them who get no honor. Therefore, father, promise me
to seat the poor at the head of the table and the rich at the
door.”
His father listened attentively and answered, “Reflect, my
son: it is difficult to change the world and its ways. There is
always a good reason behind every custom. Try to see it this
way: Why do poor people come to a feast? Naturally, be-
cause they are hungry and would like to eat a good meal.
Why do rich men come to a feast? To get honor. They don’t
come to eat, because they have enough at home. Now just
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52
imagine what would happen if you seated the poor at the
head of the table. They would sit there, very self-consciously,
feeling everybody’s eyes on them, and, naturally, they would
be ashamed to eat their fill. And what they’d eat they
wouldn’t enjoy. Now, don’t you think it would be better for
their sake that they sat unnoticed at the door where they
could eat to their heart’s content without being ashamed?
“Then again, suppose I were to do what you’re asking and
seat the rich at the foot of the table. Don’t you think they’d
feel insulted? They don’t come for the sake of the food, but
for the honor. And if you don’t give them that what will they
get?”
Why Jerusalem Was Destroyed 14
“Why was Jerusalem destroyed?” asked the Sages of Israel.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because of the desecration of
the Sabbath.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because the morning and the
evening prayers were abolished.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because the children of the
schools remained untaught.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because the people did not
feel shame towards one another.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because no distinction was
drawn between the young and the old.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because one did not warn or
admonish the other.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because men of scholarship
and learning were despised.
Jerusalem was destroyed only because there were no longer
men of faith and hope in her midst.
Other sages of Israel said: “Jerusalem was destroyed only
because her laws were founded upon the strict letter of the
Torah and were not interpreted in the way of mercy and
kindness.”
From the day that the Temple was destroyed, men of
sound judgment were cut off. Confusion of thought prevailed,
and the heart did not seek after purity but decided according
to appearances. The shedding of blood profanes the holy soil
and is an offence against the Divine Presence; it was because
of the shedding of blood that the Holy Temple was burnt.
WISE MEN 53
Where Is Paradise?
A rabbi fell asleep and dreamt that he had entered Paradise.
There, to his surprise, he found the sages discussing a knotty
problem in the Talmud.
“Is this the reward of Paradise?” cried the rabbi. “Why,
they did the very same thing on earth!”
At this he heard a voice chiding him, “You foolish man!
You think the sages are in Paradise. It’s just the oppositel
Paradise is in the sages.”
Parables
Introduction
Of all elements in Jewish folklore the parable is probably the
most distinctly Jewish. The Hebrew name for it is mashal, but
mashal has a wider meaning; it also includes fables and brief al-
legories. In all of the Pentateuch there are only five parables, but
they abound with prodigal lavishness in the A gad a of the Tal-
mud, in the Midrash, and in the books of the Apocrypha which
are the non-canonical, extra-Biblical writings. The generous use
of the parable by Jesus and the Gospel writers was but a natural
consequence of their Jewish intellectual training. Jewish medieval
literature abounds in a wealth of parables.
The most indefatigable collector and adapter of the parable
was Rabbi Jacob Krantz, the celebrated “Dubner Maggid”
(Preacher of Dubno). During the last decades of the Eighteenth
Century he traveled from town to town in Poland and Lithuania,
a true wandering preacher, admired and beloved in all of Eastern
Europe. He drew vast throngs with his eloquence and homely
wisdom, making both moral ideas and rabbinical learning pain-
less and pleasurable with his delightful story-telling art. Some of
the parables he developed from germs of ideas he found in
the Talmud and Midrash, but the bulk of them he picked up
from the plain folk as he traveled from place to place. They
were the folktales of the people, only he, with his creative in-
genuity, adapted them to serve didactic ends, in the manner of the
sages of the Agada and the Midrash. In turn, the refined parable
would go back to the people and undergo ceaseless variation and
adaptation at their hands.
The attitude of the rabbis of the Talmud to the parable was
one approaching reverence. Not only did it make their teachings
easier for the students in the academies to understand, but it kept
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their congregations from nodding. No doubt with the intellectual
snobs in mind the teachers of the people wrote adnjonishingly in
the Agada: “Do not despise the parable. With a penny candle
one may often find a lost gold coin or a costly pearl. By means
of a trifling simple parable one may sometimes penetrate into the
most profound ideas.”
According to the universally accepted tradition it was King
Solomon who “invented” the parable. ‘The Torah until Salomon’s
time,” commented Rabbi Nachman in the Agada, “was compara-
ble to a labyrinth with a bewildering number of rooms. Once one
entered there one lost his way and could not find the way out.
Then along came Solomon and invented the parable which has
served as a ball of thread. When tied at the entrance of this laby-
rinth it serves as a secure guide through all the winding, bewil-
dering passages.”
Taking up the thought, Rabbi Nachman’s colleague. Rabbi
Hanina, said: “Until the time of Solomon the Torah could have
been compared to a well full of cool refreshing water, but be-
cause of its extraordinary depth no one could get to the bottom.
What was necessary was to find a rope long enough to tie to the
bucket in order to bring up the water. Solomon made up this
rope with his parables and thus enabled everyone to reach to the
profoundest depths of the well.”
A characteristic of the parable is that it is not just an ingenious
and entertaining story but it is wisdom instinct with spirit. It is
subtle and imaginative, penetrating to the very heart of an idea
or a truth. Wise in the ways of the world and of men, it is mel-
low in its common-sense understanding of both the heights and
pitiful limitations of the human being. We find in the parable
Truth in Gay Clothes [see Jewish salt, page 13] the gentle un-
derstanding of how hard it is for many people to accept the
naked or obvious truth. To become agreeable to some, Truth
must first be adorned in attractive clothes. And that, concludes
the narrator slyly, is why Parable is always seen in the company
of Truth.
Often the parable is a bitter commentary on the perverseness of
man’s reasoning and conduct. The Poor Man’s Miracle, which the
Preacher of Dubno used to tell, has the ironic bite concluding on
the thought: “Most people would sooner help one who has fallen
than help keep him from falling.”
Very often the parable was told, not so much to instruct, as to
offer solace to the Jewish people. And, like the method of the
Yiddish literary master, Sholom Aleichem, it sparkled with the
wit and laughter of courage in adversity. Such a parable is The
Last Trouble Is the Worst, offering to the sorely beset the follow-
WISE MEN 55
ing ironic moral: “New dangers can make them (i.e., the Jews)
forget the old ones.”
N.A.
Man Understands But Little 15
All their lives the two young brothers had lived in the city
behind great stone walls and never saw field nor meadow.
But one day they decided to pay a visit to the country.
As they went walking along the road they saw a farmer at
his plowing. They watched him and were puzzled.
“What on earth is he doing that for!” they wondered. “He
turns up the earth and leaves deep furrows in it. Why should
someone take a smooth piece of land covered with nice green
grass and dig it up?”
Later they watched the farmer sowing grains of wheat
along the furrows.
“That man must be crazy!” they exclaimed. “He takes
good wheat and throws it into the dirt.”
“I don’t like the country!” said one in disgust. “Only queer
people live here.”
So he returned to the city.
His brother who remained in the country saw a change
take place only several weeks later. The plowed field began to
sprout tender green shoots, even more beautiful and fresher
than before. This discovery excited him very much. So he
wrote to his brother in the city to come at once and see for
himself the wonderful change.
His brother came and was delighted with what he saw. As
time passed they watched the sproutings grow into golden
heads of wheat. Now they both understood the purpose of the
farmer’s work.
When the wheat became ripe the farmer brought out his
scythe and began to cut it down. At this the impatient one of
the two brothers exclaimed:
“The farmer is crazy! How hard he worked all these months
to produce this lovely wheat, and now with his own hands he
is cutting it down! I’m disgusted with such an idiot and I’m
going back to the city!”
His brother, the patient one, held his peace and remained
in the country. He watched the farmer gather the wheat into
his granary. He saw him skillfully separate the grain from the
chaff. He was filled with wonder when he found that the
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fanner had harvested a hundred-fold of the seed that he had
sowed. Then he understood that there was logic in everything
that the farmer had done.
Moral
Mortals see only the beginning of any of God’s works.
Therefore they cannot understand the nature and the end of
creation.
The Poor Man’s Miracle 18
No one showed any compassion for the poor man as he went
from house to house begging for a groschen or a crust of
bread. Many a door was slammed in his face and he was
turned away with insults. Therefore he grew despondent.
One wintry day, as he was trudging through the slippery
streets, he fell and broke his leg. Thereupon they took him to
a hospital.
When the people of the town heard that a poor stranger
had been taken to the hospital suffering from a broken leg,
they began to feel very sorry for him. Some went to comfort
him, others brought him good things to eat. When he left the
hospital they furnished him with warm clothes and gave him
a tidy sum of money.
Before the poor man left town he wrote to his wife,
“Praise God, dear wife! A miracle happened: I broke a leg!”
Moral
Most people would sooner help one who has fallen than
help keep him from falling.
The Giant and the Cripple «
Two paupers wandered from town to town begging for alms.
One was a giant who had never been sick in his life, the
other was a cripple who had never known anything but
illness.
The giant used to laugh at the cripple constantly. His un-
fortunate companion took his mockery very much to heart
and in his resentment uttered the following prayer: “Lord of
the World! Punish this man who humiliates me all the time
and makes sport of my deformity, for, verily, he is a wicked
man!”
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57
At last, the two paupers reached the capital city. They ar-
rived just at the time when a great misfortune had happened
to the king. Two of his most trusted servants had died sud-
denly. One was his personal bodyguard, the strongest man in
the land; the other was the most skillful physician among all
the royal healers. So the king sent couriers into all the towns
and villages of his kingdom to gather into the capital all the
strong men and doctors who wished to compete for the va-
cant court posts.
The king finally chose one strong man and one doctor
from among all the applicants. He then asked them to furnish
proof of their fitness for the posts they were to fill.
“My Lord the King!” said the strong man. “Let there be
brought before me the strongest and biggest man in this city
and I will kill him with one blow from my fist.”
The doctor said, “Give me the most helpless cripple you
can find and I will make him well in one week’s time.”
So the king sent messengers scurrying throughout the city
looking for the strongest man and the most helpless cripple.
Luck was with them, for on the street they chanced upon the
two paupers. So they brought them before the king.
First came the strong man, and with one blow from his fist
he killed the giant. Then the doctor examined the cripple,
and after one week of treatment he made him well again.
Moral
The strength of the strong proves sometimes their misfor-
tune, just as the weakness of the weak ofttimes brings them
good fortune.
The Last Trouble Is the Worst18
Once, while on a long journey, a man met a wolf on the
road. And when he escaped from this danger he went about
telling people the story of his meeting with the wolf.
Further on the road he met with a lion, and again he es-
caped from certain death. After that, the man went about
telling people of his escape from the lion’s jaws.
Still later on he met a snake. When he escaped from its
poisonous fangs he forgot altogether about the dangers he
had met before. He talked only about his escape from the
snake.
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Similarly with the Jewish people. New dangers can make
them forget the old ones.
The Parable of the Wise Fishes 19
The authorities in Rome had issued a decree forbidding the
Jews to study the Torah. Thereupon, Rabbi Akiba arose and,
at the risk of his life, went about from town to town es-
tablishing academies. He himself held forth in learned dis-
course to great throngs.
One day Rabbi Akiba met Rabbi Pappus ben Yehuda, the
sage and patriot.
“Aren’t you afraid of the authorities?” asked Pappus.
“You speak like a fool, Pappus, even though many people
think you’re wise!” exclaimed Rabbi Akiba. “Let me tell you
a parable that has a bearing on your question.
“A fox one day was walking along the shore of a lake. He
noticed that the little fish were scurrying to and fro in the
water. As he looked at them he had a great desire to eat
them.
“‘Foolish little fish — why do you scurry about like that?*
he asked them.
“ ‘We are fleeing from the nets of the fishermen,’ the fish
replied.
“ ‘In that case,’ cried the sly fox, ‘why don’t you come
ashore and we will live like brothers just as your parents lived
with mine.’
“The little fish laughed and replied, ‘O you foxy one! You
talk like a fool even though many think you’re clever. What
silly advice are you giving us, anyway? If we are in constant
fear of our lives in the place where we live, how do you sup-
pose it will be on dry land where we cannot live? Surely,
death awaits us there!’ ”
Then Rabbi Akiba concluded: “It is with us Jews the same
as it was with the little fish. We are afraid of the enemy even
when we study the Torah, which is our support and life. Can
you imagine what fear would fall upon us were we to aban-
don this study?”
Know Before You Criticize
A young, half-baked Talmudic student, while talking to his
rabbi, expressed a heretical view about prophets and the
nature of prophecy.
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59
The rabbi bristled with indignation.
“Shame on you!” he cried. “How can you speak that way
about the Holy Prophets?”
“But that’s not my own opinion. Rabbi,” the student apolo-
gized. “I’m only quoting the Rambam. It’s written in the
Guide to the Perplexed .”
The rabbi smiled wryly.
“Let me tell you a parable,” he began.
“A merchant once came to buy goods In a large wholesale
establishment. Quite by accident he broke the glass in a show-
case. This filled him with confusion.
“ ‘I’m terribly sorry about this,’ he said.
“ ‘Oh, that’s all right — it’s only a trifle,’ said the proprietor
minimizing the loss. ‘May no worse damage happen to me.
Thank God none of the flying glass hurt you! Tell you
what — let’s have a drink of schnapps on it.’
“So the two drank in very friendly fashion, as if nothing
unpleasant had occurred.
Now there was a simpleton who saw all this happen with
his own eyes. He was very much impressed and said to him-
self, ‘If for breaking a single pane of glass the proprietor
gives this customer a glass of schnapps — what will he give me
for breaking his big front window? He’ll feel so sorry when
he sees how upset I am about it that, likely as not, he’ll have
me drink a whole bottle of schnapps with him!’
“So he picked up a rock and, with all his might, threw it at
the front window, smashing it. Thereupon, the clerks in the
store who had seen him do this ran out and gave him a good
trouncing.
‘Stop, stop, you fools! Why do you hit me?’ yelled the
simpleton. ‘Your employer gave that customer a glass of
schnapps to quiet his nerves, and me you hit?’
Schlemihl!’ answered the proprietor. ‘That man is my
best customer. If he broke a pane — nu, so what? But you,
idiot, who broke my front store-window — what profit do I get
from you?’ ”
The rabbi then concluded: “It’s the same with you and the
Rambam, my son. About Rabbi Moses ben Maimon, it has
been said: ‘From Moses our teacher to Moses ben Maimon,
there has been no Moses like unto this Moses.’ He was a
Prince in Israel. He wrote wonderful books with deep mean-
ings. It was perfectly all right for him to express a heresy, so
to speak — to break a window pane. But you, ignoramus, what
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have you done for the world to allow yourself the luxury of
breaking the store-front window of our faith?”
The Man and the Angel of Death
A man was carrying a heavy load of wood on his shoulders.
When he grew weary he let the bundle down and cried bit-
terly, “O Death, come and take me!”
Immediately, the Angel of Death appeared and asked,
“Why do you call me?”
Frightened, the man answered, “Please help me place the
load back on my shoulders.”
Moral
Even though life has its griefs man prefers a life of
wretchedness to death.
Barking Dogs
A preacher once came to town and entered the synagogue.
When he went up to the rostrum to speak the audience began
to make a terrific racket and rudely yelled, “We don’t want
any preachers here! We won’t stand for sermons in this
synagogue!”
So the preacher asked the sexton to tell the audience that
he had no intention of preaching. He merely wanted to tell a
short story about a Jewish merchant. The story was a good
one and the audience would enjoy it.
The audience agreed and the preacher began to tell the fol-
lowing story:
“Once a Jew was walking along the street with bowed
head, looking greatly worried. On the way he met an ac-
quaintance, a kindhearted old man.
“ ‘What’s wrong with you. Uncle? What has happened to
make you look so distracted?’
“ ‘Why shouldn’t I be worried? I suffer from a great mis-
fortune and it’s the more aggravating because it’s on account
of a trifle.
“ ‘As you know, I am a merchant. At present I’m negotiat-
ing with the local nobleman about an important business
deal. I have the bright prospect of earning quite a bit of
money on it. This would indeed be very welcome because it
would enable me to marry off my daughter and still have a
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61
neat sum left for myself. Unfortunately, I cannot close the
deal on account of an idiotic trifle. The nobleman invited me
to his house and when I entered the courtyard a pack of an-
gry dogs fell upon me like tigers and wanted to tear me to
pieces. I ran away almost leaving my soul behind.’
“ ‘Rest easy,’ the old man then told him. ‘I have good ad-
vice for you. Go again to the nobleman and utter the follow-
ing words of the psalmist when the savage dogs come out:
“ * “Cease from anger, and forsake wrath!” Then you’ll see
that they will stop their barking and will start licking your
hands like lambs.’
“The merchant went again to the nobleman and entered
his courtyard. But the dogs fell upon him as fiercely as be-
fore, and before even he had a chance to recite the words of
the psalmist, they nearly tore him to bits. He barely escaped
with his life.
“Thereupon he went back to the old man who asked him,
‘Did the psalm help?’
“The merchant heaved a deep sigh and replied, ‘Possibly it
would have helped but to my misfortune they were such
nasty dogs they wouldn’t even give me a chance to begin.’
“This, my friends,” concluded the preacher, “is the short
story I wanted to tell you.”
He then descended the rostrum and quickly left the
synagogue.
The Rosebush and the Apple Tree 20
A rosebush grew near an apple tree. Everybody admired the
beauty and the sweet scent of its roses. Seeing how everyone
was praising it the rosebush became vainglorious.
“Who can compare to me? And who is as important as I?”
it asked. “My roses are a delight to the eye and the most
fragrant among all flowers. True enough, the apple tree is
much larger than I, but does it afford as much pleasure to
people?”
The apple tree answered: “Even were you taller than I,
with all your vaunted loveliness and all your sweet
fragrance — you still could not compare to me in kindhearted-
ness.”
“Let me hear!” the rosebush asked challengingly. “What
are the virtues you boast of?”
The apple tree answered: “You do not give your flowers to
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people unless you first prick them with your thorns. I, on the
other hand, give my fruit even to those who throw stones at
me!”
The Parable of the Old Cloak21
A strip of new linen lying upon the table was very proud of
its beauty and fine quality.
“What a handsome garment I will make!” it exclaimed
vaingloriously.
Suddenly, the strip of linen noticed a soiled, well-worn
cloak that had been thrown carelessly into a corner. Scorn-
fully, the new linen said to the old cloak, “Woe to you, you
hideous old rag! What a drab appearance you make!”
Several days passed and the owner of the new linen sewed
himself a garment from it. Nonetheless, when he went out
upon the street he put on his old cloak over it. When the hew
garment recognized the old cloak it was filled with resent-
ment.
“How did you suddenly become so important as to be
above me?” it inquired.
The old cloak answered: “First they brought me to be
laundered. They dealt me heavy blows with paddles until they
beat the dust, the sand and the mud out of me. When they
had finished I said to myself: ‘It certainly was worth all that
pain to become clean again! Just look at me! Don’t I look
better and handsomer than before?’ And, as I was thinking
thus, they threw me into a kettle of hot water, and after that
into a kettle of tepid water. They washed, rinsed, dried and
pressed me. And, suddenly, I saw that I had been trans-
formed into a handsome garment! I then realized that before
one can be elevated one must first suffer.”
The Ancient Art of Reasoning
Introduction
The use of the Talmudic art of reasoning, tortuous and oblique
in its technique as it may sometimes appear, is frequently applied
in humorous tales and anecdotes for the discomfiture of the
wicked, the pretentious and the designing.
Sometimes Talmudic logic by its realistic application finds com-
mon sense answers to the most perplexing of human problems.
This adroit use of casuistry is found in the classic Yiddish anec-
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63
dote: It Could Always Be Worse. By viewing trouble relatively
and from the perspective of the totality of all troubles, it loses
some of its alarming character. Such wryly humorous anecdotes
have arisen in great profusion among Jews and represent a highly
individual type of folklore which is social documentation in the
most genuine sense.
N.A.
Always Two Possibilities
War was on the horizon. Two students in the Yeshiva were
discussing the situation.
‘I hope I’m not called,” said one. “I’m not the type for
war. I have the courage of the spirit, but nevertheless I shrink
from it.”
“But what is there to be frightened about?” asked the
other. Lets analyze it. After all, there are two possibilities:
either war will break out, or it won’t. If it doesn’t, there’s no
cause for alarm. If it does, there are two possibilities: either
they take you Air they don’t take you. If they don’t, alarm is
needless. And even if they do, there are two possibilities: ei-
ther you’re given combat duty, or non-combatant duty. If
non-combatant, what is there to be worried about? And if
combat duty, there are two possibilities: you’ll be wounded,
or you won’t be wounded. Now, if you’re not wounded, you
can forget your fears. But even if you are wounded, there are
two possibilities: either you’re wounded gravely, or you’re
wounded slightly. If you’re wounded slightly, your fear is
nonsensical, and if you’re wounded gravely, there are still
two possibilities: either you succumb, and die, or you don’t
succumb, and you live. If you don’t die, things are fine, and
there s no cause for alarm; and even if you do die, there are
two possibilities; either you will be buried in a Jewish ceme-
tery, or you won’t be. Now, if you are buried in a Jewish
cemetery, what is there to worry about, and even if you are
not . . . but why be afraid? There may not be any war at
all!” .
It Could Always Be Worse
The poor Jew had come to the end of his rope. So he went to
his rabbi for advice.
Holy Rabbi!” he cried. “Things are in a bad way with me,
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and are getting worse all the time! We are poor, so poor, that
my wife, my six children, my in-laws and I have to live in a
one-room hut. We get in each other’s way all the time. Our
nerves are frayed and, because we have plenty of troubles, we
quarrel. Believe me — my home is a hell and I’d sooner die
than continue living this way!”
The rabbi pondered the matter gravely. “My son,” he said,
“promise to do as I tell you and your condition will im-
prove.”
“I promise, Rabbi,” answered the troubled man. “I’ll do
anything you say.”
‘Tell me — what animals do you own?”
“I have a cow, a goat and some chickens.”
“Very well! Go home now and take all these animals into
your house to live with you.”
The poor man was dumbfounded, but since he had
promised the rabbi, he went home and brought all the ani-
mals into his house.
The following day the poor man returned to the rabbi and
cried, “Rabbi, what misfortune have you brought upon me! I
did as you told me and brought the animals into the house.
And now what have I got? Things are worse than ever! My
life is a perfect hell — the house is turned into a bam! Save
me. Rabbi — help me!”
“My son,” replied the rabbi serenely, “go home and take
the chickens out of your house. God will help you!”
So the poor man went home and took the chickens out of
his house. But it was not long before he again came running
to the rabbi.
“Holy Rabbi!” he wailed. “Help me, save me! The goat is
smashing everything in the house — she’s turning my life into
a nightmare.”
“Go home,” said the rabbi gently, “and take the goat out
of the house. God will help you!”
The poor man returned to his house and removed the goat
But it wasn’t long before he again came running to the rabbi,
lamenting loudly, “What a misfortune you’ve brought upon
my head, Rabbi! The cow has turned my house into a stable!
How can you expect a human being to live side by side with
an animal?”
“You’re right — a hundred times right!” agreed the rabbi.
“Go straight home and take the cow out of your house!”
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65
And the poor unfortunate hastened home and took the cow
out of his house.
Not a day had passed before he came running again to the
rabbi. “Rabbi!” cried the poor man, his face beaming.
“You’ve made life sweet again for me. With all the animals
out, the house is so quiet, so roomy, and so cleanl What a
pleasure!”
Wishes Must Never Be Vague 22
A Jew was once trudging along the highway. From much
walking his feet began to ache. So he prayed, “O Lord! If I
only had an ass to ride!”
No sooner had he uttered these words than a Roman
trotted by. The ass on which he rode had given birth to a
little ass.
“Here, fellow,” cried the Roman. ‘Take this little ass on
your shoulders and carry it for me!”
So the Jew did as he was ordered and he trudged behind
the Roman with the little ass on his shoulders. As he stag-
gered along, bent double under his burden, he said to himself,
“Truly, my prayer has been fulfilled! To my misfortune, how-
ever, I did not express my wish clearly enough. I should have
stipulated that I wished to have an ass for me to ride — not
one to ride me!”
Damning with Praise
The Rabbi of Tamow, hearing that the post of rabbi was
open in Sambor, applied for it. One Sabbath afternoon he
preached there in the synagogue, but the congregation. didn’t
like him and turned him down.
Disheartened, he returned home the following day. On the
way he met his old acquaintance, the Rabbi of Landshut, and
he unburdened his heavy heart to him.
“Was that a nice thing to do to me. Rabbi?” he asked,
boiling over.
“To be frank with you,” replied the Rabbi of Landshut,
“the people of Sambor are perfectly right. Furthermore, go-
ing a little deeper into the matter, I think I have more right
to the Sambor post than you.”
“How so?”
“It’s clear as daylight. In your case, all of Tamow would
like to see you Rabbi of Sambor. In my case it’s the same.
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All of Landshut would like me to become Rabbi of Sambor.
But because my town is bigger than yours, I believe I have a
better right to the post.”
Seeing that the Rabbi of Tamow grew despondent, the
Rabbi of Landshut hastened to say, “But don’t take that to
heart, brother. Let me assure you that if the post of Rabbi of
Cracow were vacant you’d have a better right to it than 1.
You see, in my case only the Jews of Landshut would like
me to become Rabbi of Cracow, but in your case not only
the Jews of Tamow but also the Jews of Sambor would like
to see you Rabbi of Cracow. And against such a combination
I couldn’t beat you!”
A Brief Sermon
The Rabbi of Ropshitz was a great scholar but had eccentric
habits. He would concentrate on some particular point in his
studies to the utter neglect of his routine duties. One Sabbath
day he mounted the rostrum to preach, but suddenly panic
seized him. He faltered for only a moment. Then he plunged
into his sermon. t
“How should a rabbi preach?” he asked.
“He must always preach what is true,” he answered him-
self. “His sermon must be brief and to the point and his sub-
ject must be based on the Scriptural ‘portion’ of the week.
Since a rabbi must speak the truth, I would like to say that I
have no idea what this week’s ‘portion’ is. Now, that I have
spoken briefly and to the point and have based my sermon on
the subject of the Scriptural ‘portion,’ I wish to conclude and
say, ‘Amen.’ ”
Mikhail Ivanovitch Makes a Discovery
In A certain town there lived a rabbi who had taken on his
holy calling late in life. Once, when he was asked about it, he
replied:
“Let me tell you the story about Mikhail Ivanovitch.
“Now this Mikhail was a great soak. He used to roll in ev-
ery gutter of the town, drunk as Lot.
“One day, the landowner’s small boys decided to play a
prank on him. So, while he lay in a ditch, they dressed him in
an Orthodox Russian priest’s black robe and high stovepipe
hat.
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67;
“When Mikhail finally sobered up and rubbed his eyes, he
could not believe what he saw.
“ ‘What the devil am I doing in a priest’s outfit?’ he won-
dered. Can it be — Lord preserve me — that I’ve become a
priest — or is it only a drunken dream?’
“Carefully, he felt his priestly garments from top to bot-
tom.
“ ‘They’re real as life!’ he muttered to himself.
“There was only one conclusion: somehow, sometime, he
had become a priest!
“Bewildered by his discovery he lay with closed eyes,
thinking hard.
Let s see now,’ he speculated. ‘If the priest’s breviary is
m my pocket, then I’m surely a priest.’
So he stuck his hand in his pocket and, sure enough, he
drew out a breviary.
“ ‘So, I’m actually a priest!’ he laughed.
Still he would not believe it. He suspected something was
somewhere. He needed more proof.
u Lst’s see now if I can read,’ he speculated further.
(So he opened the breviary and dug his nose into it.
“ ‘No luck!’ he muttered, dejected. ‘I can’t read. It’s proof,
then, I’m no priest at all. On the other hand, how do I know
that a priest must know how to read? I’ll go to the priest and
find out if he can read.’
“He found the priest at home.
“ ‘I’ve come to find out whether you can read,’ Mikhail
Ivanovitch said, handing him the breviary.
“The priest put on his spectacles and dug his hose into the
breviary.
“ ‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘I can’t read.’
“ ‘In that case,’ cried Mikhail, overjoyed, ‘I’m a priest!’ ”
The old rabbi then concluded, “It was the same with me as
with Mikhail Ivanovitch. At first I thought I didn’t know
enough to be a rabbi. So I studied night and day, year in and
year out, in order to become worthy of the rabbinate. Later,
however, I discovered to my amazement that other rabbis
didn’t know much either, so I said: ‘Now I see I can be a
rabbi too!’ ”
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68
The Cheapest Way
The wonder-working rabbi held forth learnedly before his
disciples. He told them a story out of the Midrash:
“Once, ah infant was abandoned in the forest by an unfor-
tunate mother who was too poor to feed it. So it lay there
alone among the trees and cried and cried. A woodcarrier
heard it and came running to where it lay. He picked it up
and hushed its cries. While he was kind and gentle he was
also very poor. How could he buy milk for the infant, for he
hadn’t earned a kreutzer all day?
“So what do you think God did? He caused a miracle to
happen, the kind of miracle that hasn’t happened since the
creation: He made a mother’s breasts grow on the woodcar-
rier] This miracle the good man understood to be a command
from God. So he went home and suckled the infant without it
even costing him a kreutzer!”
When the rabbi had finished his story he looked around
him. Amazement was written on every face. Only one of the
disciples had a troubled look on his face.
“Don’t you like this story?” the rabbi asked him.
“No, not very much,” muttered the man. “I just don’t un-
derstand it! It seems to me that God’s mercy could have been
shown in other ways without having to reverse the laws of
nature. Why did God have to give the man a mother’s
breasts? For instance, He could just as easily have dropped
down from heaven a bag with a thousand gulden. Then the
poor man could have engaged a wet-nurse to suckle the in-
fant.”
The rabbi mused, “It’s not so, not so, my friend! You’re a
sensible man — say yourself: If God has the power to make
breasts grow on the woodcarrier why should He lay out a
thousand gulden in cold cash?”
Why Scholars Have Homely Wives
An inquisitive young Talmudist asked his rabbi, “Why is it
that most pious men and scholars marry homely wives? Is,
that their just reward?”
“Let me tell you a story,” answered the rabbi. “A rich man
once invited some strangers to dinner. Unluckily, the cook
burned the greater part of the roast so the hostess, out of
courtesy, had the good portions served to the guests. The
members of the family were given the burned parts to eat.
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Now, my son, this also holds true with regard to the
women apportioned to pious scholars. The Almighty in His
wisdom created good-looking, amiable girls as well as
homely, shrewish girls. The pretty ones, out of courtesy, He
allots to the strangers, the libertines— the homely ones He
reserves for the pious scholars who are, after all, members of
His own family.”
The Arrogant Rabbi
Once there was a rabbi whose son was also a rabbi. Whereas
the father was gentle and considerate, the son was aloof and
arrogant For that reason he had no success with his congre-
gation.
One day, when he complained about this to his father, the
old man said, “My son, the difference between your ways and
mine as rabbi is this: when someone puts a difficult question
°f Torah to me, and I give him an answer, my questioner is
satisfied and I’m satisfied — my questioner with his question,
and I with my answer. But, when someone asks you a ques-
tion, both of you remain unsatisfied : your questioner because
you tell him his question is no question, and you, because
you don’t give him an answer.”
Love of Perfection 23
Rabbi Simeon Ben Gamaliel once stood on Mount Moriah
and saw a woman pass by. She was unusually beautiful.
As he looked at her Rabbi Simeon exclaimed, “Wondrous
indeed is your handiwork, Almighty God!”
Did Rabbi Simeon grow enthusiastic over the woman?
No, he only admired the perfection of the Creator’s handi-
work.
Wise Judges
Introduction
If it was important to have wise teachers and scholars as an in-
dispensable social necessity it was no less desirable to have wise
and incorruptible judges. “To do justice and judgment is more ac-
ceptable to the Lord than sacrifice,” the proverb states. While
wise judges are extolled in Jewish folktales they are invariably de-
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lineated as scrupulously honest men who have both the will and
the courage to cut through the underbrush of deceit and legal
technicalities in order to discover the truth and to dispense jus-
tice. According to the Jewish view a corrupt judge cannot be a
wise judge. “Presents and gifts blind the eyes of the wise,” dourly
reflects the worldly Ben Sira.
In the legendary lore of the Jews concerning wise judges, King
Solomon naturally takes the foremost place. Who is not familiar
with his stratagem to discover the child’s true mother? However,
much more profound and ethically stirring was his judgment in
the litigation between the otter and the weasel in the fable: Whose
Was the Blame? It concludes on the stern moral: “He that soweth
death shall reap it.” More significant yet, this fable gives devout
utterance to the Jewish ideal of the sanctity of all life.
In the parable. The Saving Voice, we see the traditional bend-
ing backward by the rabbinic judge in order not to be the cause
of possible injustice. Better to let ten guilty ones go unpunished
than to unjustly condemn an innocent man! And the ethical con-
clusion of the story: “To do a man harm requires a decision
from a high authority — to save him from harm, only a word
from the most insignificant person.” It vividly recalls God’s
promise to spare the wicked city of Sodom if only ten good men
be found in it. This ethical attitude is made explicit even in the
many jests and anecdotes in wide currency among Jews. It is
present in the merry story, He Didn’t Deserve His Fee. If the
rabbi sitting in judgment here became a casuist and juggled
deftly with legal technicalities and verbal sleight of hand it was
not with the intention of confusing the issue before him or to
pervert justice. On the contrary, it was to defend a poor man in
adversity against a heartless and mercenary doctor.
The Old Man and the Snake and the Judgment of Solomon 24
It came to pass in the time of King David, when his son Sol-
omon was still a young lad, that an old man, walking along
the road in winter time, found a half frozen snake in the
road. The old man, bethinking himself of the command to
take pity on all creatures, put the snake into his bosom to
warm it. No sooner did the snake recover than it coiled itself
round the man’s body and squeezed him so hard that he
nearly died. And the old man said to the snake, “Why do you
harm me and try to kill me when I saved your life? If not for
me you would have frozen to death.” Continuing, the old
man said: ‘Let us go before the court that they may decide
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71(
whether you are treating me justly.” The snake replied: “I
am willing to do so, but to whom shall we go?” The old man
replied: “To the very first thing we meet.” So they walked to-
gether, and first they met an ox. The old man said to the ox:
“Stand still and judge between us.” And he related to him
how he had saved the snake from death, and now the snake
was doing all in its power to kill him. The snake replied: “I
am acting properly, for it is written in Holy Scripture, ‘I will
put enmity between the man and the snake’ ” (cf. Gen.
3.15). The ox replied: “The snake is right in doing you
harm, though you have treated it kindly, for such is the way
of the world, that if one does good to another, he returns evil
for good. My own master does the same. I work all day long
in the field and benefit him a great deal, and yet in the eve-
ning he eats the best and to me he gives a little oats and
straw. My master lies in a bed and I must lie in the open
yard on straw, where the rain comes down upon me. This is
the way of the world, and therefore the snake is right in
wishing to kill you, although you have saved its life.” The old
man was very much hurt by these words. Farther on, they
met an ass. Addressing the ass, they said the same to it as
they had said to the ox. And the ass replied in the same man-
ner as the ox had done.
Then the old man came before King David and com-
plained of the snake. King David replied: “The snake is
right. Why did you not carry out the word of the Scripture,
which says: ‘I will put enmity between you and the snake’?
Therefore I cannot help you. You did wrong in warming the
snake. You should have let it die, for the snake is our en-
emy.”
The old man left the king with tears in his eyes, and as he
walked on, he met young Solomon in the field near a well.
He had dropped a stick into the well and was ordering the
servants who were with him to dig deeper below the source
of the well, so that the water should run into the well and fill
it, and thus carry the stick up, so that he could reach it.
When the old man saw this, he said to himself: “He must be
a clever lad, I will put my case before him, maybe he can
protect me from the snake,” and he told him the story of
what had befallen him with the snake. Solomon replied:
“Have you not been before my father?” And the old man
said: “Yes, I have been there, but he said he could not help
me- Young Solomon said: “Let us go to him again.”
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So they went together again before King David, and the
old man had a stick in his hand upon which he leaned. When
they appeared before King David, Solomon said: “Why do
you not deliver judgment between this man and the snake?”
and King David replied: “I have no judgment to declare. It
serves him right. Why did he not keep what is written in the
Torah?” Then Solomon said: “Dear father, give me leave to
pronounce judgment between the two.” King David replied:
“Dear son, if you think you can do so, go ahead without hesi-
tation.” Then young Solomon, turning to the snake, said:
“Why do you do evil to a man who has done you good?”
And the snake replied: “The Lord, blessed be He, has com-
manded me to bite the heel of the man.” Then Solomon said:
“Do you desire to observe the Torah and what is written
therein?” And the snake replied: “Yes, most willingly.” Then
Solomon said: “If you desire to do what is written in the To-
rah, then release the man and stand on the ground beside
him, for it says in the Law that the two men who have a
quarrel with one another must stand before the judge (cf.
Deut. 19.17), therefore you must also stand alongside of
him.” The snake replied: “I am satisfied to do so”; and,
uncoiling itself from the man, he stood next to him. Then
Solomon said to the old man: “Now do to the snake as it is
written in the Law, for it is written in the Torah that you
should crush the snake’s head (cf. Gen. 3.15). Therefore do
as is written in the Torah, for the snake has promised to ao*
cept the judgment of the Law.” The good old man had a
stick in his hand which he used in walking, for he was a very
old man. So he lifted the stick and smote the snake on the
head and killed it. And so the clever Solomon saved the old
man from the snake through his great wisdom.
Therefore, no one should do good to a wicked creature, as
the old man did.
Whose Was the Blame T28
An otter came one day and complained before King Solo-
mon, saying: “Alas! my Lord and my King! Was it not thou
that didst spread good tidings of peace and truth to all dwell-
ers upon the earth in thy time? Didst thou not likewise or-
dain peace between one wild creature and another?”
“And who hath broken this peace?” asked Solomon.
“I went down into the water,” answered the otter, “to hunt
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73
for food, and my whelps I had entrusted into the hand of the
weasel. But it rose up against them and destroyed them. And
now the blood of my innocent children crieth out to me,
Death to the Slayer!”
And the King commanded that the weasel be brought be-
fore him, and he inquired of it:
“Was it thou that slew the otter’s children?”
And the weasel said:
“It was I, my lord the King, but, as the King liveth, it was
not with intent or evil purpose. I heard the woodpecker as he
thundered with his beak, giving forth the sound of the drum,
proclaiming the summons to war. And so it was that, as I
sped to the battle, I trampled on the children, but it was not
with evil purpose.”
And the King called the woodpecker and asked:
“Didst thou sound an alarm to summon people to the fight
with a thundering of the drum?”
And the woodpecker answered:
“I did so, my Lord the King. But I did so because I saw
the scorpion whetting its dagger.”
And the King called the scorpion and asked:
“Why wast thou whetting thy dagger?”
And the scorpion answered:
“Because I saw the tortoise furbishing its armor.”
And when the tortoise was inquired of, it said in its de-
fence:
“Because I saw the crab sharpening its sword.”
And the crab answered:
“Because I saw the lobster swinging its javelin.”
And the King commanded the lobster to be brought, and
he reproved it, saying:
“Why didst thou swing thy javelin?”
And the lobster answered and said:
“Because I saw the otter going down into the water to de-
vour my children.”
Then the King looked towards the otter, and said:
“The weasel is not guilty. The blood of thy children is on
thine own head. He that soweth death shall reap it.”
A Very Ancient Law
Rabbi Elijah, the Gaon of Vilna, had a distaste for presid-
ing over the routine affairs of the Jewish community. He was
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a great Talmudic scholar, and he found that his studies suf-
fered when he became involved in trifling disputes. Ac-
cordingly, there was a tacit understanding that under no
circumstances was he to be called to communal meetings
unless a new law was to be legislated.
On one occasion he was summoned by the communal lead-
ers for an emergency meeting. When he arrived he listened
with shocked amazement to the proposal that poor Jews liv-
ing outside the city of Vilna should not be allowed to come
into the city to collect alms.
Rabbi Elijah arose and asked, “Is it for this proposal that
you have taken me away from my studies? I was under the
impression that this meeting was called to legislate a new
law.”
“But that’s exactly so, Rabbi!” explained the head of the
community. “We are trying to draw up a new law against the
outside poor.”
“Do you call that a new law?” asked Rabbi Elijah scorn-
fully. “Why that law was introduced more than five thousand
years ago in Sodom and Gomorrah!”
The Discerning Judge?9 1
A youth, who had not even reached his twentieth year, sold
his father’s possessions which he had inherited. Immediately
afterwards, he was sorry about the sale and went to Rabbi
Raba to have it nullified. The youth’s relations instructed him
beforehand, “When you go to Rabbi Raba be sure to eat
some dates and shoot the pits right into his face.”
The youth followed this advice and threw the date pits at
the great rabbi.
Rabbi Raba regarded him with amazement and compas-
sion. “Poor boy,” he thought. “He is mentally deficient.” So
he nullified the sale.
Before they sat down to draw up the document of nullifi-
cation the purchaser secretly instructed the youth to say to
the rabbi, “A scribe is paid one gold piece to transcribe the
entire Book of Esther. Why then does the rabbi charge one
gold piece for just a few words?”
These words the youth repeated to Rabbi Raba who, when
he heard them, said to himself, “In truth, this boy speaks sen-
sibly! In that case the sale was valid.”
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75
And when the youth’s relations heard how Rabbi Raba had
reversed himself they protested, “The boy didn’t say these
words out of his own head! He must have been instructed to
say them by the purchaser.”
“In that case,” said Rabbi Raba, closing the hearing, “since
the young man has enough sense to remember and to repeat
what he is instructed it’s a sign that he is fully aware of what
he’s doing.”
“But Rabbi!” protested the relatives. “Didn’t he throw date
pits at you?”
“As for that,” answered Rabbi Raba, “that was just plain
impudence!”
Whafs in a Name?
When the time came for naming their firstborn son, a hus-
band and wife began to wrangle with each other. She wanted
to name him after her father; he wanted to name him after his
father. Unable to agree, they went to the rabbi to referee the
dispute.
“What was your father’s name?” asked the rabbi of the
husband.
“Nahum.”
“And what was your father’s name?” the rabbi asked the
wife.
“Also Nahum.”
“Then what is this whole argument about?” asked the
puzzled rabbi.
“You see, rabbi,” said the wife, “my father was a scholar
and a God-fearing man, but my husband’s father was a
horse-thief! How can I name my son after such a man?”
The rabbi pondered and pondered. It was indeed a ticklish
matter; he didn’t wish to hurt the feelings of the husband. So
he said, “My decision is that you name your son Nahum and
leave the rest to time. If he becomes a scholar, then you will
know that he was named after his mother’s father. If, on the
other hand, he becomes a horse-thief, it will be clear that he
was named after his father’s father.”
Equal Justice
Rabbi Wolf of Zbaraz had a stem sense of justice. Far and
wide he was famed as an incorruptible judge. One day, his
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own wife raised an outcry that her maid had stolen an object
of great value. The servant, an orphan, tearfully denied the
accusation.
“We will let the Rabbinical Court settle this!” said her
mistress angrily.
When Rabbi Wolf saw his wife preparing to go to the
Court he forthwith began putting on his Sabbath robe.
“Why do you do that?” she asked in surprise. “You know
it is undignified for a man of your position to come to Court
with me. I can very well plead my own case.”
“I’m sure you can,” answered the rabbi. “But who will
plead the case of your maid, the poor orphan? I must see that
full justice be done to her.”
The Saving Voice
Rabbi Moses Leib of Sassov was a very tolerant man. When-
ever he acted as judge in a dispute he would look for any
possible excuse to be lenient. Upon one occasion, the lax con-
duct of the community shochet was cause for much com-
plaint. His dismissal was demanded by all. Only one man
appeared in his defense when the case was brought up before
the rabbi. The good sage listened, his brow knitted, to the tes-
timony of the witnesses. Then he announced his decision: “I
absolve the shochet of all blame and rule that he retain his
post”
Thereupon a clamor arose.
“Rabbi!” cried one. “How can you take the word of one
single man against die testimony of many!”
The rabbi replied gently, “When God commanded Abra-
ham to bring his only son Isaac as a sacrifice upon His altar,
didn’t Abraham listen then to a mere angel who stayed his
hand? Yet God found this just, although it opposed His will.
And God’s reason for this is plain. To do a man harm re-
quires a decision from high authority — to save him from
harm, only a word from the most insignificant source.”
He Didn’t Deserve His Fee
Once a small town doctor, who thought more of his fees
than of his patients, was called in to treat the sick wife of a
poor tailor. After examining the woman he turned to the hus-
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77
band and said, “This case will take a lot of my time and I
can see that you won’t be able to pay me for my services.”
“Please, doctor, save her life!” begged the anxious hus-
band. “I promise to pay you even though I’ll have to pawn
everything I own to get the money!”
“What if I don’t cure her — will you pay my fee just the
same?” insisted the doctor.
“Whatever happens, whether you cure her or kill her, I
promise to pay!” cried the husband.
The treatment was started, but within a few days the
woman died. Shortly after, the doctor demanded 1500 rubles
as his fee. The bereft husband informed him that he was un-
able to pay and, as was the custom among the Jews, they
brought the matter to the rabbi for settlement.
The sage understood right away what had happened.
“Tell me again,” he asked the physician, “what was your
contract with this man?”
“I was to get paid for treating his wife regardless whether I
cured or killed her.”
“Did you cure her?” asked the rabbi.
“No.”
“Did you kill her?”
“I certainly did not!”
“Then, since you have neither cured her nor killed her
what right have you to the money?”
The Blessing
A woman once came to lay her complaint before the rabbi.
“Rabbi,” she began bitterly, “my husband is a wastrel — he
gives away all his money to the poor. Please make him see
that what he’s doing is a sin.”
And even as she spoke a poor man came in and inter-
rupted vehemently, “Rabbi, my wife is gravely sick and my
children are hungry, but my brother, who is rich, refuses to
help us.”
The rabbi thereupon said to the woman, “Go and bring
your husband.” And to the poor man he said, “Go and bring
your rich brother.”
The two men came.
“Why are you so impractical?” the rabbi asked of the char-
itable man.
“Man’s life on earth is as brief as a heart-beat,” replied the
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man. “Therefore, I fear that death may cut short my oppor-
tunity to do good. So I give away my money.”
“And why are you so tight-fisted and cruel?” the rabbi
asked of the rich brother. “Why don’t you aid your own flesh
and blood?”
“Rabbi,” answered the miser, “what man knows the day on
which he’ll die? What if I live to be a hundred and twenty?
Would you wish me to remain unprovided for in my old
age?”
The rabbi mused awhile and then, with a faraway smile on
his face, he said, “May God preserve each one of you from
what he mostly fears!”
For Whom the Cock Crowed
Two pious scholars lived in neighboring houses. One was
poor but quarrelsome, the other was wealthy but a miser.
Now the poor scholar bought himself a rooster so that its
crowing at dawn might wake him for the study of the Torah.
So the cock crowed and its owner arose betimes for his
sacred labors. Also the miserly scholar heard the cock crow
and he too got up to study at daybreak.
Once the owner of the rooster said to his neighbor, “Since
you share in the benefits of the rooster’s cock-a-doodle it
would only be fair that you also share in its upkeep.”
“Did I ask you to buy the rooster?”
“No! But I see that you profit from it.”
“Does it cost you anything if its crowing wakes me too?”
“Since you won’t pay, let’s go to the rabbi.”
“Agreed!”
So they went to the rabbi. The rabbi pondered the matter
long and gravely.
“It’s a difficult case — a very difficult case!” he mused,
stroking his beard reflectively. “Because of this I’ll have to
charge each of you a gulden for the hearing.”
The two scholars were taken aback but nevertheless each
paid the rabbi a gulden.
“Hear my judgment then,” said the rabbi. “You, the owner
of the rooster, say it’s your rooster and therefore it crows
only for you. Your neighbor, on the other hand, says that
since he isn’t deaf he too can’t help hearing the rooster crow.
But I say: it neither crows for you nor for him but for me so
that you two blockheads can pay me a gulden each!”
WISE MEN
79
Too Clever Is Not Clever
Once upon a time there was a schlimazl. He never earned
anything and he never found anything, so he cursed his luck.
But one day, as he was walking with eyes downcast, he sud-
denly saw a little bag lying on the path before him. Out of
curiosity he picked it up and, to his amazement, found a
hundred gulden in it
That very day the sexton announced from the pulpit in the
synagogue that the richest man in town had lost a large sum
of money and that he had promised a substantial reward to
the finder.
When the poor man heard this, he began to struggle with
his conscience. Should he or should he not return the money?
After all, no one had seen him find it, and at home his chil-
dren were crying for food. Besides, wasn’t the loser of the
money rich? He’d hardly miss it!
Abashed suddenly by the wicked temptation that had come
to him, the poor man hurried to return the money.
The rich man accepted the money without even a “thank-
you” and began to count the guldens leisurely, one by one, in
the meantime saying to himself, “This man is a ninny. I won’t
have to give him anything.”
“May I have my reward?” mumbled the poor man timidly.
“Reward!” cried the rich man. “Reward for what? Before
your very eyes I’ve just counted one hundred gulden. Yet I
had two hundred gulden in that bag. Since you have already
stolen a hundred you have some nerve to ask a reward.”
“Then let us go to the rabbi,” demanded the poor man.
“Very well,” said the rich man.
The rabbi listened attentively to both men. Then he turned
to the rich man and asked, “How much money was in the
bag you lost?”
“Two hundred gulden.”
“And how much money was in the bag you found?” asked
the rabbi of the poor man.
“One hundred gulden.”
“In that case,” said the rabbi to the rich man, “the bag of
money he found is not yours. I order you to give back the
hundred gulden to this man!”
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HEROES
Riddle Solvers
Introduction
Talmudic dialectics developed in the Jew a penetrating subtlety;
and also stimulated in him a love for cerebration for the sheer
pleasure of it. Complicated bits of argumentation, mathematical
puzzles, conundrums, clever retorts, ingenious word-play — all
were pleasant diversions to drive away tedium, especially during
the long winter evenings in the ghetto-towns and villages.
Hundreds of riddles and stratagems which taxed the ingenuity
were thus cooked up in those idle hours by the plain folk and be-
queathed from one generation to another like precious gifts.
Some of these were obviously borrowed from other peoples and
adapted to suit Jewish folk-taste.
As with other Eastern peoples, the riddle-story was always pop-
ular among Jews. For centuries Jews lived in large numbers in
Arab countries. Arab and Jew naturally borrowed readily from
each other’s culture. And so Jewish folklore shows Arabic influ-
ence to a marked degree, just as it, in turn, grafted its legends,
tales and wise sayings on Arabic folklore. The riddle, Rabbinical
Arithmetic, has an Arabic analogue, but it is indeed difficult, if
not impossible, in dealing with intercultural fusion to determine
primary origin. Attribution is frequently arbitrary and supposi-
tional. This also holds true for The Story of Kunz and the Shep-
herd, taken from the Maaseh-Buch, the Sixteenth Century Yiddish
folk-tale collection produced in the Rhineland. It has points of
similarity to the English story, King John and the Abbott, and
probably was an adaptation of a German variant.
NA
Alexander’s Instruction 27
After his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Alexander of Ma-
cedonia and his legions drew southward. When they reached
the first city the wise men there came out to greet the con-
queror.
“I have ten questions to put to you,” he told them. “If you
are able to answer them for me I will know that you are
indeed wise, and will let you go in peace.”
“Speak, O King!” they replied with one voice.
“What distance is greater,” asked Alexander, “that between
Heaven and Earth or that between East and West?”
“That between East and West, O King! The sun rises in the
East, therefore it can be observed easily, without the eye
WISE MEN
81
being dazzled. It is the same when the sun sets in the West.
However, when the sun sits high in the center of Heaven it is
impossible for the naked eye to look at it Its splendor blinds
the eyes, for at that point the sun is nearer to man than East
or West.”
“Which was first created — Heaven or Earth?”
“Heaven! For Scripture says: ‘In the beginning God
created Heaven and Earth.’ ”
“What was first created — Light or Darkness?”
At this question the wise men hesitated before giving their
answer. They thought, “If we say that Darkness is mentioned
first in Scripture, he will want to know more and more and
ask us ever harder questions, such as — what there is above
Heaven and under the Earth, and what existed before
Heaven and Earth were created, and what will exist after
they pass. Therefore, let us better say that the question is too
difficult for us to answer.” So they said, “O King, the man
does not live who could answer you this question.”
“In that case,” answered Alexander, “I will stop asking you
such difficult questions and put to you easier ones.
“Tell me,” he continued, “who is wise?”
“He who can foresee the future.”
“Who is a hero?”
“He who conquers himself.”
“Who is rich?”
“He who rests content with what he has.”
“By what means does man preserve his life?”
“When he kills himself.”
They meant: when a man destroys within himself all pas-
sion.
“By what means does a man bring about his own death?”
“When he clings to life.”
They meant: when he holds on to his passions and belongs
to them.
“What should a man do who wants to win friends?”
“He should flee from glory and should despise dominion
and kingship.”
“That is a very foolish answer!” cried Alexander. “It is
precisely he who wants to win friends that must strive for
glory. Then he will be in a position to do good to people.”
“Is it better for man to live on dry land or on the water?”
Alexander continued.
“Dry land is better for man. Ask anyone who has been to
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HEROES
sea and he will agree with what we say. They who live on the
water never find peace of mind and live in constant anxiety.”
Having concluded his questioning Alexander asked the
wise men, “Which one of you is wisest?”
“We are all equally wise, O King! You must have observed
that all of us replied to you at the same time.”
“Why then do you shun us and don’t obey my laws? Have
you no fear of me, the great Alexander?”
“O King, the Angel of Evil also seeks daily to command
men and to force them to obey them. Glory to him who dis-
obeys him!”
Alexander was filled with rage, hearing such words.
“How dare you speak to me in this manner!” he cried.
“Don’t you know that one word from me and you will all
die?”
“That we know most certainly, O King,” the wise men re-
plied calmly. “But do you think it is becoming for a mighty
king like you to lie? Recall that you promised to let us go in
peace after we had answered all your questions.”
At this Alexander quieted down and gave the wise men
presents of costly garments and golden neck-chains.
“I will now leave you and sail for Africa,” he told them.
“For Africa!” cried the wise men in astonishment. “Why,
you’ll find there mountains so high that they reach the sky!
They’ll surely obstruct and darken your way.”
“Advise me then!” asked Alexander. “How can I find the
right road there?”
“Get the asses from the far-off land of Luw to ride on,” re-
plied the wise men. “They can see in the dark. Bind on them
threads of flax and hold firmly to them. Then you will be
able to pass safely through the mountains.”
And Alexander did as they said and reached his goal
safely.
The Wisdom of the Jews 28
Two Jews were taken prisoner on Mount Carmel by a Per-
sian, who then made them walk before him. Suddenly he
overheard one prisoner say to the other, “I can see that a
camel passed along this road before us who was blind in one
eye, was loaded with two kegs: one with wine, the other with
oil, and that of the two drivers who led the camel one was a
Jew and the other a Persian.”
WISE MEN
83
“O y®u stiff-necked race!” mocked their Persian captor.
“What peculiar people you are! How do you know all that
you are saying?”
Thereupon, the Jew explained how he knew. “A camel
usually grazes on both sides of the road, but you can very
well see that only the grass on one side of the road is nibbled.
This indicates that he could see with only one eye. For proof
that the camel was loaded with two kegs, one of wine and
one of oil, look on the ground. You will notice tell-tale drops.
Also, it is easy to tell the nationality of the camel-drivers.
When a Jew eats he throws the crumbs aside, but a Persian
throws his crumbs right into the middle of the road.”
Curious to find out whether what the Jew said was true,
the Persian hastened ahead until he overtook a camel with
two drivers. Questioning them, he found out that it was ex-
actly as his captives had told him. He then returned and, kiss-
ing both Jews on the forehead, took them home with him. He
made a great feast in their honor and sang and danced before
them, exclaiming, “Praised be the God of the Jews who chose
the children of Israel as His people and endows them with a
share of His wisdom!”
How to Replenish a Treasury29
The Emperor Antoninus once sent a messenger to Rabbi
Judah ha-Nasi with the following question: “The Imperial
Treasury is rapidly being depleted. Can you advise me how to
increase it?”
Rabbi Judah did not answer. Without a word he led the
messenger into his garden. Then he went quiedy about his
work. He dug up large turnips and in their place planted little
turnips. He did the same thing with beets and with radishes.
Seeing that Rabbi Judah was not inclined to answer him,
the imperial messenger said to him, “Give me a letter.”
“You need none.”
The messenger then returned to Antoninus.
“Did Rabbi Judah give you a letter for me?”
“No.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“This neither.”
“Did he do anything?”
“Yes, he led me into his garden, dug up large vegetables
and in their stead planted small ones.”
84
HEROES
“Now I understand what his advice is!” exclaimed the Em-
peror.
Immediately he dismissed all his governors and tax collec-
tors and replaced them with less illustrious but more honest
officials who, before long, replenished the Imperial Treasury.
Rabbinical Arithmetic
Three men pooled their money and for twenty-seven
hundred rubles bought seventeen horses in partnership. One
had paid half of the money, another a third, and the third
man a ninth. But, when the time came to divide the horses,
they did not know how to do it. So they went to the rabbi for
advice.
“Let me sleep on the matter overnight,” he told them.
“Come back tomorrow morning and bring your horses with
you.”
At the appointed hour the following morning the three
partners brought their horses to the rabbi. The rabbi then
went into his stable and led out his own horse. Mounting it,
he drew up alongside the seventeen horses.
“My good friends,” he said, “there are now eighteen
horses here. You, who paid one half, take nine horses. You,
who paid a third, take six horses. You, who paid one ninth,
take two horses. Altogether you, therefore, have the seventeen
horses disposed of.”
Then the rabbi led his own horse back to the stable and re-
turned to his Talmud.
The Real Sonso
A man once overheard his wife admonish their daughter:
“Why aren’t you more careful? If you want to sin make sure
that no one suspects you. Follow my example! Here am I, a
mother of ten children, yet your father doesn’t know that
only one of our sons is his!”
Her husband never betrayed the slightest sign that he had
overheard her, but on his deathbed he had a will drawn up
leaving all his possessions, “to my only son.”
Everybody was confounded! No one knew who “the only
son” was. So all the sons went to see Rabbi Banna’ah to have
him decide who was to be the heir.
Rabbi Banna’ah pondered the matter and said, “Go, all of
you, to your father’s grave and clamor loud and long until he
WISE MEN 85
reveals which one of you he had in mind as his true son and
heir.”
All the sons hastened to the cemetery, except one. He was
really the “only son.” But, unlike his brothers, he was deter-
mined that he would rather lose the inheritance than insult
the memory of his father.
Rabbi Banna’ah then gave his decision. “The inheritance
belongs to the son who didn’t clamor at his father’s grave.”
The Innkeeper’s Clever Daughter 31
Once there was a nobleman and he had three Jewish tenants
on his estate. One held the forest concession, another oper-
ated the mill, the third, the poorest of them, ran the inn.
One day the nobleman summoned the three and said to
them, “I am going to put to you three questions: ‘Which is
the swiftest thing in the world? Which is the fattest? Which is
the dearest?’ The one who answers correctly all of these ques-
tions won’t have to pay me any rent for ten years. And
whoever fails to give me the correct answer, I’ll send packing
from my estate.”
The Jew who had the forest concession and the one who
operated the mill did not think very long and decided be-
tween them to give the following answers: “The swiftest thing
in the world is the nobleman’s horse, the fattest is the noble-
man’s pig, and the dearest is the nobleman’s wife.”
The poor innkeeper, however, went home feeling very
much worried. He had only three days’ time to answer the
nobleman’s questions. He racked his brains. What answers
could he give?
Now the innkeeper had a daughter. She was pretty and
clever.
“What is worrying you so, father?” she asked.
He told her about the nobleman’s three questions.
“Why shouldn’t I worry?” he cried. “I’ve thought and
thought but I cannot find the answers!”
“There is nothing to worry about, father,” she told him.
“The questions are very easy: The swiftest thing in the world
is thought, the fattest is the earth, the dearest is sleep.”
When the three days were up the three Jewish tenants went
to see the landowner. Pridefully the first two gave the an-
swers they had agreed upon beforehand, thinking that the
landowner would feel flattered by them.
86
HEROES
“You’re wrong!” cried the nobleman. “Now pack up and
leave my estate right away and don’t you dare to come
back!”
But, when he heard the innkeeper’s answers he was filled
with wonder.
“I like your answers very much,” he told him, “but I know
you didn’t think them up by yourself. Confess — who gave
you the answers?”
“It was my daughter,” the innkeeper answered.
“Your daughter!” exclaimed the nobleman in surprise.
“Since she is so clever I’d very much like to see her. Bring
her to me in three days’ time. But listen carefully: she must
come here neither walking nor riding, neither dressed nor
naked. She must also bring me a gift that is not a gift.”
The innkeeper returned home even more worried than the
first time.
“What now, father?” his daughter asked him. “What’s
worrying you?”
He then told her of the nobleman’s request to see her and
of his instructions.
“Well, what is there to worry about?” she said. “Go to the
market-place and buy me a fishing net, also a goat, a couple
of pigeons and several pounds of meat.”
He did as she told him and brought to her his purchases.
At the appointed time she undressed and wound herself in
the fishing net, so she was neither dressed nor naked. She
then mounted the goat, her feet dragging on the ground, so
that she was neither riding nor walking. Then she took the
two pigeons in one hand and the meat in the other. In this
way she arrived at the nobleman’s house.
The nobleman stood at the window watching her arrival.
As soon as he saw her he turned his dogs on her, and, as they
tried to attack her, she threw them the meat. So they pounced
on the meat and let her pass into the house.
“I’ve brought you a gift that is not a gift,” she said to the
nobleman, stretching out her hand holding the two pigeons.
But suddenly she released the birds and they flew out of the
window.
The nobleman was enchanted with her.
“What a very clever girl you are!” he cried. “I want to
marry you, but only on one condition, never must you inter-
fere in my affairs!”
She gave him her promise and he made her his wife.
WISE MEN 87
One day, as she stood at the window, she saw a weeping
peasant pass by.
“Why do you weep?” she asked him.
“My neighbor and I own a stable in partnership,” he told
her. “He keeps the wagon there and I a mare. Last night the
mare gave birth to a pony under my neighbor’s wagon.
Whereupon, my neighbor insisted that the pony rightfully be-
longed to him. So I haled him before the nobleman who
upheld him and said the pony was his. How unjust, I. say!”
‘Take my advice,” the nobleman’s wife said. “Get a fish-
ing-rod and station yourself before my husband’s window.
Nearby you’ll find a sand-heap. Pretend you’re catching fish
there. My husband will surely be amazed and will ask you:
‘How can you catch fish in a sand-heap?’ So you will answer
him: ‘If a wagon can give birth to a pony then I can catch
fish in a sand-heap/ ”
The peasant did as she told him and it happened exactly as
she said it would.
When the nobleman heard the peasant’s answer he said to
him, “You didn’t think this up out of your own head.
Confess, who told you?”
“It was your wife.”
Angrily the nobleman went to look for his wife.
“You have broken your promise not to interfere in my af-
fairs!” he stormed at her. “Go and choose from all my pos-
sessions that which you deem the most precious and return to
your father’s house!”
“Very well,” she answered, “I will go, but before I do I
would like to dine with you for the last time.”
He consented, and during dinner she plied him with much
wine. When he had drunk a great deal he became drowsy and
fell asleep. Thereupon she ordered that his carriage be made
ready. She then drove him, as he slept, to her father’s house.
When he sobered up and discovered where he was he
asked in surprise, “How did I ever get here?”
“It was I who brought you here,” his wife confessed.
“Don’t you remember telling me to choose the most precious
possession you owned and then to return to my father’s
house? So I looked over all your possessions, and, not finding
any of them as precious as you, I carried you away with me
to my father’s house.”
The nobleman was overjoyed.
“Since you love me so, let’s go home!” he said.
88
HEROES
So they were reconciled and lived in prosperity and in
honor for the rest of their lives.
The Farmers Daughter 92
Once there was a king who was wise and mighty. He had a
large harem of many wives and concubines.
One night he had a troubling dream. He saw an ape out of
the land of Yemen sitting astride the necks of his wives and
concubines and then leaping from one to another.
In the morning the king awoke feeling sad and depressed.
He thought to himself gloomily, “The dream can mean noth-
ing else but that the King of Yemen will conquer my country
and will take my wives away from me.”
When the chamberlain entered, as was his daily custom, he
heard his master sighing.
“What makes you so sad, O King?” he asked. “Reveal your
secret to your servant. Maybe I will be able to help you in
your trouble.”
The king told him, “I had a dream last night that made me
have bitter forebodings of death. Do you know of any man
who can interpret dreams well?”
“I have heard that only three days’ journey from here there
lives a man of great wisdom who can interpret the most con-
fusing dreams. Tell me what troubles you, O King, and I will
go to ask the help of this interpreter of dreams.”
The king told him his dream and then said to the chamber-
lain, “Go now in peace.”
And so the chamberlain mounted his mule and started out
in search of the wise man.
On the following morning he met a farmer riding on an
ass.
“Peace be with you, you tiller of the soil,” he said, “you
who are of earth and who eat earth.”
The farmer laughed, hearing him speak so.
“Where are you travelling?” asked the chamberlain.
“I’m on my way home.”
“Will you carry me or shall I carry you?” asked the cham-
berlain.
The farmer laughed again, saying, “Why should I carry
you when you are riding a mule and I am mounted on an
ass?”
Then they rode on together for a while.
WISE MEN
89
Soon they came to a field covered with ripening wheat.
“See how beautiful the field looks and how full the wheat
spears are!” said the farmer.
“Indeed, it’s so,” answered the chamberlain, “but the wheat
has already been eaten.”
They rode on and came upon a tower built upon a high
cliff.
“See how strong this fortress is!” cried the farmer with ad-
miration.
“It looks well fortified but it may be destroyed from
within,” replied the chamberlain. Further on he exclaimed,
“Just look at the snow on the summit!”
Again the farmer laughed because it was in the middle of
summer and there was no sign of snow anywhere.
Soon they approached a city and saw a dead man being
borne on his bier to the cemetery.
“Is this one dead or alive?” asked the chamberlain.
At this the farmer thought to himself, “This man thinks
he’s clever, but he’s the most stupid man I’ve ever met!”
When the sun began to set the chamberlain asked his com-
panion, “Is there an inn in the neighborhood?”
The farmer replied, “Ahead of us is the village where I
live. Bestow on me the honor of lodging with me. I have
enough straw for your bed and fodder for your mule.”
“I will gladly accept your hospitality,” said the chamber-
lain.
Thus he accompanied the farmer to his house. The farmer
served him food and drink, fed his mule and showed him the
place where he could lie. The farmer then went to sleep
beside his wife; his two daughters also slept in the same
room.
At night the farmer woke his wife and daughters and said
to them, “What a simpleton is our guest!” And he repeated
all the remarkable things the chamberlain had said during
their journey.
Now the farmer’s youngest daughter, who was fifteen years
old, was very clever. She said to her father, “Why do you call
this man a fool? In my opinion he’s very clever and wise.
What he said is full of deep meaning and of great signifi-
cance. I don’t think you understood what he meant.”
And then she went on to explain: “When he said that he
who cultivates the soil also eats earth he referred to the origin
of all food which springs from the earth.
90
HEROES
“When he told you that you were of the earth, too, he was
referring to the Scriptural passage: ‘From dust you spring
and to dust you shall return.’
When he asked the question which one of you shall carry
the other he was merely asking which one of you should en-
tertain the other, for he who lightens the spirit of a fellow-
traveller also lightens his journey so that he feels as if he
were being carried.
“When he spoke of the wheat growing in the field he could
very well have been right, for if the owner of the field was
poor and in debt he most likely had already sold the crop in
advance.
“When he held that the tower was not strongly fortified he
merely pointed to the possibilities of traitors being within its
walls and of there being an insufficient stock of food and
water inside.
When he said that there was snow on the mountain he
was merely referring to your grey hair and beard. You should
have answered: Time has done that to me.’
“When he asked whether the dead man was dead or alive
he merely wished to inquire whether he left children behind,
and if he did he was alive, even though dead.”
The farmer was under the impression that the chamberlain
was fast asleep, but in fact he was very much awake and had
eagerly followed the daughter in her explanation.
When the morning came the daughter said to her father, “I
want you to give our guest before he leaves us whatever food
1 11 give you.”
So she placed before her father thirty eggs, a bowl of milk
and a whole loaf.
“Now go to our guest and ask him how many days are still
required to oomplete the month, whether the moon is full and
the sun is whole.”
Of the food that his daughter had served him the farmer
ate only two eggs and a slice of bread, and also drank a little
milk. The rest he placed before the chamberlain. Then he put
to him the question his daughter had instructed him to ask.
The chamberlain listened and then replied, ‘Tell your
daughter that two days are missing to complete the month
and that neither the sun nor the moon are full.”
The farmer went to his daughter and reported to her what
the chamberlain had answered.
“Tell me truly, isn’t the man a simpleton?” he asked. “We
WISE MEN 91
are right in the middle of the month and here he claims that
it is only two days before its end!”
“Tell me, father,” asked the daughter. “Did you taste any
of the food I gave you?”
“I ate two eggs, a slice of bread and drank a little milk,”
answered her father.
“Now I know that the stranger is a wise man!” cried the
daughter.
When the chamberlain heard of the cleverness of the girl
he was filled with astonishment.
“Let me speak with your daughter,” he asked the farmer.
The farmer consented and the girl was introduced to the
chamberlain. He asked her some more questions and she
knew the right answers. Having convinced himself of her wis-
dom he told her the reason for his journey and gave her all
the details of the king’s dream.
When he had finished the girl said, “I know well what the
ape that the king saw in his dream signifies but I will not
confide it to anyone but the king himself.”
The chamberlain now revealed his true identity to the
farmer and his wife and begged them to allow their daughter
to journey with him to the palace of the king. Her parents
gave their consent, so the chamberlain brought the farmer’s
daughter before the king and she found favor in the king’s
eyes.
He led her into a private chamber where he repeated to
her his dream and after he had spoken, she said, “O King,
banish all worry from your mind! The ape you saw had no
evil significance. But I dare not tell you the meaning of the
dream in order not to cause you suffering.”
“I command you to speak!” cried the king, sternly.
“Very well then,” the girl answered. “Make a thorough
search of your harem, and among your wives and your con-
cubines and their maid servants you will find hidden an evil
man who is disguised in woman’s attire. He is the ape you
saw in your dream.”
So the king commanded that the matter be investigated,
and it was as the farmer’s daughter had said: they found a
youth among them masquerading in woman’s clothes. To
teach his wives and concubines a lesson the king ordered that
the man be cut down before their eyes and his blood be
sprinkled on their faces. He also ordered killed all the women
who had sinned with him.
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HEROES
And when all this was done he made the farmer’s daughter
his wife, and placed the royal crown on her head. He swore
to give up all of his wives and concubines and the clever girl
remained his only mate.
The Story of Kurtz and His Shepherd I38
The proverb runs: “You will be left behind as Kunz was left
behind to look after the sheep.” And if you ask how Kunz
came to be left behind to look after the sheep, I will tell you.
Once upon a time there was a mighty king, who had a
counselor called Kunz. Whenever the king needed advice,
and the counselors in conference came to a decision, the clever
Kunz would go to the king and say: “This is our decision.”
This fine gentleman always took the credit to himself, pretend-
ing that he was responsible for the advice and that the other
counselors had to agree with him, for they had neither sense
nor understanding. And the good king believed what Kunz
told him and considered him as much wiser than the other
counselors.
Now the other counselors noticed that the king loved Kunz
more than he loved them and they resented it very much, for
he was the least important among them. One day they took
counsel together how to get the better of Kunz and humiliate
him. So they went to the king and said: “Lord king, we beg
of you to forgive us, for we wish to ask you how it is that
you think more of Kunz and hold him in higher esteem than
the rest of us, although we know that he is the least impor-
tant among us?” The king replied: “I will tell you how it
happens. Whenever you come to a decision on any matter, he
reports it to me and says that the idea is his and that you
have to acknowledge every time that he is wiser than you and
that you have no sense at all. But I do not hold you in disre-
spect, for you are all good to me.” When the counselors
heard this, they were very glad and thought: “We will soon
bring about his downfall.” Then they said to the king: “Be
assured that all which Kunz said is a lie, for he has no sense
at all. Try every one of us separately and you will see that he
cannot give you any advice by himself.” The king said: “I
will find out very soon,” and sent for his beloved counselor
Kunz and said to him: “My dear servant, I know that you
are loyal and exceedingly wise. Now I have something in my
mind that I do not wish to reveal to anyone. Therefore I
WISE MEN
93
want to ask you whether you can find out the truth for me,
and if you do, I will reward you liberally.” The clever Kunz
replied: “My beloved king, ask me and I hope I can give you
an answer. Tell me your secret.” The king said: “I will ask
you three questions. The first is: Where does the sun rise?
The second is: How far is the sky from the earth? The third,
my dear Kunz, is: What am I thinking?” When Kunz heard
these three questions, he said: “Lord king, these are difficult
matters, which cannot be answered offhand. They require
time. I beg of you, therefore, to give me three days’ time, and'
then I hope to give you the proper answer.” The king re-
plied: “My dear Kunz, your request is granted, I will give
you three days’ time.” Kunz went away and thought to him-
self: “I cannot concentrate my mind very well in the city, I
will go for a walk into the country. There I am alone and
can reflect better than in the city.”
He went out into the country and came upon the shepherd
who was tending his flock. Walking along, he talked as it
were to himself, saying: “Who can tell me how far the heav-
ens are from the earth? Who can tell me where the sun rises?
Who can tell me what the king is thinking?” The shepherd,
seeing his master walking about wrapt in thought, said to
him : “Sir, pardon me. I can see that you are greatly troubled in
your mind. If you ask me, I might be able to help you. As
the proverb says: ‘One can often advise another, though one
cannot advise oneself.’ ” When Kunz heard these words from
the shepherd, he thought: “I will tell him. Perhaps after all
he may be able to advise me.” And he said: “I will tell you
why I am so troubled. The king asked me three questions,
which I must answer or lose my neck. I have been thinking
about them and cannot find the answer.” Then the shepherd
said: “What are the three questions? Perhaps I may be able
to help you in your great trouble.” So Kunz thought: “I will
tell him, maybe he is a scholar.” And he said: “My dear
shepherd, these are the three questions which the king asked
me. I must tell him where the sun rises, how far the heavens
are from the earth, and what the king is thinking.” The shep-
herd thought it was well to know the answers and said to
Kunz: “My dear master, give me your fine clothes, and you
put on my poor garments and look after the sheep. I will go
to the king and he will think that I am you and will ask me
the three questions. Then I shall give him the proper answers
and you will be saved from your trouble. Then I shall return
94
HEROES
here and you will not be in disgrace with your king.” Kunz
allowed himself to be persuaded, gave the shepherd his good
clothes and fine cloak, while he put on the shepherd’s rough
garments and sat down to look after the sheep, as though he
had done it all his life.
When the three days had passed, the shepherd went to the
king and said: “Lord king, I have been thinking over the'
three questions that you asked me.” The king said: “Now tell
me, where does the sun rise?” The shepherd replied: “The
sun rises in the east and sets in the west.” The king asked
again: “How far are the heavens from the earth?” The shep-
herd replied: “As far as the earth is from the heavens.” Then
the king said: “What am I thinking?” The shepherd replied:
“My lord king, you are thinking that I am your counselor
Kunz, but I am not. I am the shepherd who looks after his
flock. My master Kunz was walking in the field one day and
saying to himself: ‘Who can tell me where the sun rises? Who
can tell me how far the heavens are from the earth? Who can
tell me what the king has in his mind?’ He was walking about
all the time and talking in such fashion. So I told him he
should give me his good clothes and I would give him my
rough clothes; he should look after the sheep and I would,
with the help of God, guess the answers to these three ques-
tions and save him. He allowed himself to be persuaded, and
so he is now out in the field, dressed in my rough clothes and
tending the sheep, while I am dressed in his beautiful cloak
and his best clothes.” When the king heard this, he said to the
shepherd: “As you succeeded in persuading Kunz, you shall
remain my counselor and Kunz can look after the sheep.”
Hence the proverb: “You will be left behind as Kunz was
left behind to look after the sheep.” This is what happened to
him. May it go better with us.
2
Miracles
Cabalists, Mystics and
W ONDER- w ORKERS
Introduction
Beginning with the Talmudic era, there crept into Jewish
thought a persistently mystical and life-denying element. But mys-
ticism never really achieved a dominant position among Jews ex-
cept for relatively brief periods when, under the stress of
persecution, Jewish life became constricted. Then there were those
who were eager to escape into the unreal and shadowy world of
Cabala.
What is the Cabala? It is not just one book but an entire body
of esoteric knowledge which had been created in the course of
some two thousand years by those daringly imaginative but sickly
minds, the cabalists. They were men disenchanted with life who
sought to construct a bridge between “this vale of tears” and
God. They were “God-intoxicated” men, dominated by a single
drive: As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my
soul after Thee, O God!” (Psalm 42.1). To find God, the cabalists
renounced the world with all its snares of the senses. They substi-
tuted intuition for reason, spirit for flesh, the hidden for the visi-
ble, and the unknown for the known.
Cabala, which in Hebrew means “The Received, or Traditional
Lore,” loftily referred to itself as “The Hidden Wisdom.” It
represented that kind of knowledge which could be acquired, not
by ordinary reason, but by the illumination of the spirit. There-
fore, only the spiritually elect, those who were “adepts in Grace,”
were deemed worthy enough to explore its secret meanings. In
short, it was an “aristocratic” body of knowledge like some ab-
struse higher mathematics; hoi polloi had to rest content with
Scripture itself.
The history of the Cabala winds along a complicated and un-
95
96
HEROES
certain course. It is a strange mystical brew of diverse ingredi-
ents, combining Jewish ethics, Zoroastrian dualism, Pythagorean
numerology, Neo-Platonic emanations and medieval Christian
asceticism. While numerous works collectively constitute the Ca-
bala, the two most prized are the Sefer Yetzira (Book of
Creation) compiled during the Talmudic era, and the far better
known Zohar (Splendor) which people sometimes erroneously use
interchangeably with Cabala. This second work, ascribed by its
first editor, the Spanish mystic Moses Shem-Tob de Leon
(1250-1305), to the Galilean Mishna writer Simon bar Yohai
(Second Century a.d.), became the scriptures of the later cabal-
ists. Next to the Bible itself it was revered above all other sacred
Jewish works by its devotees and by awestruck superstitious folk.
Because of this the Cabala fell into disrepute among the rational-
ists. This explains the popular misconception of the Cabala, usu-
ally based on inadequate knowledge, as being nothing but a silly
hodge-podge of numerological and alphabetical abracadabra,
childish beliefs, incantations, and various other kinds of mumbo-
jumbo.
Although Jews lived in walled-in isolation in medieval times,
they were exposed to the influences of the Christian and Islamic
worlds about them. Monasticism, with its rejection of the life of
the senses as cardinal sin, left a deep impression on the cabalists
of the Middle Ages. They too mortified the flesh in order to sub-
jugate it and, by the power of prayer, strove to break the bonds
which kept their spirits earthbound. It was often a pietistic pas-
sion close to frenzy that burned like a consuming fire within
them, all but destroying the frail human kernel in which the spirit
dwelled. A vivid description of this kind of aberrated striving can
be found in The Cabalists, a story by the Yiddish literary master
I. L. Peretz, which is included in this section.
It is indeed a paradox of history that the Dark Ages among
Jews had never really existed until the latter half of the Sixteenth
Century. At the very time when the medieval darkness had sent
civilization reeling backwards in Europe, the Jews were probably
the most enlightened people in the world. They were the proud
inheritors and disseminators not only of their own culture but of
the Greek and Arabic civilizations as well. As has so often been
pointed out by historians, the Jews were instrumental to a large
measure in kindling the bright flame of learning and rationalism
in a superstitious feudal society. However, in the twilight years of
the Renaissance, while the Christian world was richly developing
its sciences, its arts and the humanities, the Jews, yielding to the
hammer blows of their enemies, were growing culturally weaker.
Superstition, excessive piety and delirious cabalistic dreams proved
excellent modes of escape from the unhappy reality of Jew-
ish life. The legends about the Sixteenth Century Cabala mas-
MIRACLES
97
ters of Safed in Palestine — Moses Cordovero, Joseph della Reyna,
Alkabez, Chayyim Vital, and Isaac Luria, better known as “The
Ari” — wove their web of morbid enchantment around Jewish
daily thinking and feeling. In addition to harassment from death,
hunger, epidemics and persecution, the average Jew now had to
endure the terror of a shadowy world haunted by unspeakable
demons, specters, ghosts and dibbukim (transmigrating souls).
With the rise of the popular mystical sect, the Hasidim (The
Pious), the Cabala took a new lease on life, but it went through
an inner and outer transformation as well. Rabbi Israel Baal-
Shem, the founder of Hasidism, introduced the Cabala into his
mystic cult but without any of its forbidding austerities. He bor-
rowed from it principally the ethical, the poetic and the ecstatic
elements.
The legends of the Hasidim have a fascinating historical-reli-
gious background, unique in all folk-literature. Actually, the time
span of their creation was less than two hundred years, for the
sect was founded shortly before the middle of the Eighteenth
Century. They are more than mere legends; they constitute a gen-
uine body of devotional folk-literature. One of the best ways to
worship God, the Hasidim believed, was to read and tell the won-
drous tales about the tzaddikim. The singing of melodies, and the
dance, were also considered forms of worship which could serve
as substitutes for Torah-study.
The initiator of this social-religious movement, which toward
the end of the Nineteenth Century embraced half of all the Jews
in Europe, was Israel ben Eliezer, later known as Israel Baal-
Shem, or Baal-Shem-Tov (Master of the Good Name). He was
born in 1700, either in the Ukraine or in the Carpathian Moun-
tains of Galicia, no one knows where for certain. All his life he
revealed a great love for solitude and for nature. He wandered
alone through field and forest and communed with God in the
poetical-mystical way that was characteristic of him. It was at
such times that he spun his visions of the aspiring soul and the
redemption of man, which were to become the fundamental doc-
trines of his sect. Legend has Baal-Shem variously as a
bahelfer — a religious teacher’s assistant — as a synagogue
shammes in a Galician town, and as a drover in Volhynia. His
humble calling exposed him to the ridicule of his middle-class op-
ponents, the misnagdim, but it was of tremendous advantage to
him in his evangelical labors among the common people, for he
spoke the folk-language and articulated their spiritual hungers and
hopes.
The immediate and widespread success of Hasidism was due to
a variety of historical reasons. One hundred years before there
had been the Thirty Years War in which the Jews suffered more
than any others and from whose frightful ravages they never
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HEROES
fully recovered. In 1648 two cataclysmic events occurred. The
first took place during the Cossack uprising against Polish rule,
led by the Hetman Bogdan Chmielnicki. In the course of the
struggle, terrible barbarities were perpetrated on the Jews. Some
three hundred thousand, or about half of the Jewish population in
the Ukraine, were massacred. The terrors of the time greatly
resembled those initiated against the Jews by the Nazis in our
days.
The effect of these mass-atrocities on the Jews of the world was
prostrating. Many thought that the end of the world was already
at hand, for one of the Jewish Messianic traditions is that, when
the suffering of the Jewish people will have reached its most des-
perate point, God in His mercy will send the Messiah to redeem
it.
During the year that the atrocities in the Ukraine occurred, a
young Turkish Jew of arresting personality and magnetism, an-
nounced himself as the Messiah in the city of Salonika. This was
the cabalist Sabbatai Zevi. Because the Jews of his day had the
will to believe in a supernatural instrumentality that would save
them from further disaster, he came as the answer to their pray-
ers. Messianic hysteria swept like a conflagration over all of Eu-
ropean Jewry. Tens of thousands liquidated their worldly affairs
and readied themselves for the End of Days.
The result was the only one that could be expected under the
circumstances: disillusionment. The psychologically complicated
Sabbatai Zevi, after a series of exciting adventures, failed his fol-
lowers in the end: he embraced Mohammedanism. The Jews of
the world were split wide apart over the issue and the so-called
“Sabbatian” controversy raged bitterly for more than a hundred
years. But the effect of this debacle on the Jewish masses was
paralyzing. They grieved and sank into a deep apathy.
However, poverty and persecution continued as usual. Confined
in crowded ghettos, deprived of normal outlets for their energies,
most Jews sought refuge in cabalistic superstitions and practices.
To the Talmudic rationalists of the day religious worship had be-
come ever more formalistic, suffering from a diminishing emo-
tional content. The common folk could find no satisfaction in it,
for many could barely read Hebrew and had been taught to recite
their prayers parrot-fashion.
It was, therefore, as if in answer to a universal need for a com-
forter, that Baal-Shem appeared. He went from town to town,
preaching an evangel of faith and joy. Laughter, song and the
dance, he said, were the highest forms of prayer. Love of God he
declared more important than formalistic religious worship. To
do good among men was better than to observe the minutiae of
Law and Ritual. Baal-Shem sanctified all that was humble, that
was workaday. But all-fundamental was his central doctrine of
MIRACLES
99
love: love of God and love of man. All life was holy, he said.
The dry-as-dust, learned Talmudist or rabbi had less of a chance
to taste the beatitude of the spirit and the rewards of Paradise
than the pure in heart and the humble, even though they might
be illiterate.
The evangel of Hasidism that Baal-Shem and his disciples
preached was therefore as much of a socio-ethical nature as it
was religious. It revitalized the Jewish spirit, revived hope, gave
the people an affirmative philosophy of life that was warmly emo-
tional, highly ethical, rich in earthiness though very mystical It
was a liveable, workable way of life, regardless of its admitted
serious shortcomings.
The Rabbinic authorities, the Talmudic traditionalists, naturally
condemned the new sect as heretical. They even pronounced the
ban of excommunication against Baal-Shem. But all in vain.
Hasidism was like a tidal wave sweeping over Galicia, Poland,
Hungary, parts of the Ukraine and Lithuania. Nothing could stop
it, for it answered an urgent need; the Jewish masses could not
survive spiritually without it.
Unfortunately, Hasidism, like so many other religious sects,
carried within itself the seed of corruption. It was inherent in the
very institution of the Tzaddik— the Holy Man and Wonder-
Worker — who became dynastic and was motivated sometimes by
less than spiritual motives. As the intermediary between God’s
and man’s desires, the Tzaddik was courted and adulated and of-
fered gifts of money by his worshipping followers. It was but
natural that some should have been tempted and thus flung the
entire, sect into disrepute. This led to a vulgarization of Baal-
Shem s exalted teachings. None the less, the spirit of the move-
ment withstood all the corrosions among the plain folk, as the
numerous Hasidic legends and anecdotes in this collection reveal.
Although Hasidism, as a movement, is practically extinct at the
present time, isolated circles of Hasidim are still to be found,
even m New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Chicago. There are
also neo-Hasidim. These are usually of a sophisticated, intellec-
tual-mystical bent. Professor Martin Buber has been their leader,
wr! Va"°US tUneS has had such influential adherents as Franz
Werfel, Marc Chagall, Franz Kafka, Max Brod and Arnold
N.A.
Why Rabbi Israel Laughed Three Times 34
One, Friday nigbt Rabbi Is™el Baal-Shem, together with all
his disciples, ushered in the Sabbath Bride with joyous ec-
100
HEROES
stasy. But immediately after he had recited the benediction he
leaned back in his chair and laughed uproariously.
The disciples who sat around him looked on in stunned
silence. They were too over-awed by his sanctity to ask him
why he laughed so. There was nothing they could see that
could have given him cause for such laughter.
A while later he laughed again, and shortly thereafter, he
laughed for the third time.
The disciples were filled with amazement. Never before
had they seen him do anything like it.
Now it was the custom of Rabbi Israel that after the
Habdalah, the prayer service that ushered out the departing
Sabbath Bride, he would light his long-stemmed pipe. Then
his disciple, Rabbi Kitzes, would enter his study and put to
him all the questions about matters that had puzzled the dis-
ciples.
This time Rabbi Kitzes asked him, “Do tell me. Rabbi,
why did you laugh three times yesterday? It must have been
for some good reason.”
“Have patience, I will soon reveal to you the reason why I
laughed,” replied Rabbi Israel.
Another Sabbath custom of Rabbi Israel’s was that every
Sabbath night after the Habdalah he would ride out of
Miedziboz into the country. This time he ordered his coach-
man to make ready the large carriage. He took along with
him on this journey his closest disciples.
All night long they rode in utter darkness, without knowing
where they were going. When morning came they suddenly
found themselves in the town of Kozenitz. So they went to
call on the head of the community.
The whole town was full of excitement. Everybody talked
of nothing but of Rabbi Israel’s arrival. Many came to stand
at a respectful distance and look upon his holy, radiant face.
After Rabbi Israel had finished the morning service he said
to the head of the community, “Send for Reb Shabsi, the
bookbinder.”
“Shabsi, the bookbinder!” cried the elder, hardly believing
what he had heard. “What do you want to see that old man
for? While we consider him a good man he is not very
learned in the Law. It seems to me, Rabbi, that it won’t be
adding much dignity to a man of your greatness to talk to
such a common person. After all, we do have great scholars
MIRACLES 101
and cabalists in Kozenitz. Surely you have more in common
with them?”
But Rabbi Israel was firm.
“I have urgent need of Reb Shabsi, the bookbinder!” he in-
sisted. “I must talk with him.”
So a special messenger was sent to fetch Reb Shabsi and
his wife.
When they finally arrived Rabbi Israel said to him,
“Shabsi, I want you to tell all of us here what you did last
night. But you must tell the truth — conceal nothing!”
“I will tell you everything that happened, dear Rabbi,” be-
gan Reb Shabsi. “And, if I have sinned in any way, I trust
you will punish me with the right penance.
“Ever since I got married I have earned my livelihood
from binding books. I did well at one time. Every Thursday
I’d give my wife enough money to make the necessary Sab-
bath purchases of chaleh, fish, meat, wine and wax candles.
On Friday morning I closed shop at ten o’clock and went to
the synagogue. There I cantillated the Song of Songs and re-
mained all day until after the evening services. That was my
custom all along until I grew old.
“Now I no longer have the energy to toil as I did before. I
can hardly earn anything. When Thursday arrives my wife
can no longer afford to make the necessary Sabbath pur-
chases. There is only one precept that I’ve been able to follow
scrupulously in the days of my decline. At ten o’clock on Fri-
day morning I still close my shop and go to the House of
Study.
“Last Friday morning I found I did not have even a gro-
schen to give my wife, and I knew no one from whom I
could borrow money, even for chaleh. I could not stoop to
beg. Never in my life have I asked such help from people.
Only in God did I place my trust and, when I saw that God
had failed to provide for me the necessities for the Sabbath, I
understood that it was just that it should be so.
“I then made up my mind to fast throughout the Sabbath.
I had only one fear — that my wife would not be able to con-
tain herself and would tell the neighbors. If she did they
would surely give her chaleh and other Sabbath foods. So I
begged her not to accept any help from anyone, no matter
what happened.
“Before I left for the synagogue I told my wife that I
planned to come home that Friday night later than usual
102
HEROES
from the synagogue. I was afraid that I might accidentally
meet some neighbor on the way who would be likely to ask
me why there were no Sabbath candles burning in my house.
So I remained behind in the synagogue until all had gone
home — then I left.
“While I was away in the synagogue my old woman tidied
up the house in honor of the Sabbath. But, as she was putting
things in order, she unexpectedly found an old jacket that she
had mislaid for a long time. The jacket had silver buttons
overlaid with gold, as was the fashion in olden times. So my
wife went and sold the buttons and, for the money, she
bought candles because I had told her that I would be late in
coming. She also bought chaleh, fish, meat and had some
money left besides.
“I returned home from the synagogue quite late. What was
my surprise to see large candles burning as I approached my
house! I thought: ‘Alas, my old woman couldn’t hold back
from telling her troubles to her neighbors!’ When I entered the
house I found the table set. There was wine for the bene-
diction, and chaleh and all good things. I did not say any-
thing to my wife because I did not wish to mar the Sabbath
peace.
“My old woman saw, however, that I was not in a good
mood. So, after I had recited the benediction, she said to me,
‘Do you remember, Shabsi, how long I’ve been looking for
my old jacket with the silver buttons? Well I found it after
you had left for the synagogue. I sold the buttons, and what
you see here was bought with the money I got for them.’
“When I heard this my joy was indescribable. I even shed
tears and thanked the heavenly Father that we could observe
the Sabbath decently without anybody’s help. My joy was so
great that I arose from the table, took my old woman by the
hand and we began to dance. After we had finished the soup
we danced once more, and after the sweet tzimmes, the
dessert, we danced for the third time.
“And so, Holy Rabbi, if you think that by doing this I
have sinned, then I beg you to judge me, and what you say
I’ll do. God alone knows the truth that in dancing my inten-
tion was not to display levity but to praise and thank Him for
the grace and loving-kindness He has shown me.”
And when the old man had finished speaking Rabbi Israel
turned to his disciples and said, “Believe me, when Reb
Shabsi and his old woman laughed and danced with joy all
MIRACLES
103
the angels in heaven could not restrain themselves and they
too laughed and danced through the celestial halls. And, if
the angels of heaven could not restrain themselves, how could
I? So I laughed once, twice and three times, just as they did!”
Then Rabbi Israel called to the bookbinder and his wife.
“Come nearer — tell me what you wish! Tell me what your
heart most desires. Do you wish to be rich, to live in luxury
and honor, or would you rather have a son to comfort you in
your old age?”
Do not mock at us, Holy Rabbi,” Reb Shabsi answered.
“We are both already very old and we never had a child be-
fore. Of course, what do we want with riches? We’d rather
have a son whom we can love and who will be a comfort to
us in our old age.”
“Go in peace, then,” said Rabbi Israel. “Know that before
the year is over you will have a son. I will come to his cir-
cumcision and will act as his god-father. You will give him
my name, Israel.”
And it happened just as Rabbi Israel said. Within a year a
child was bom to the old bookbinder and his wife. Rabbi Is-
rael was his god-father and he blessed him. As the years
passed the boy became the illustrious Preacher of Kozenitz
with whose wisdom the whole world became full. He was a
saint and a sage, and may his fragrant memory be a blessing
to all of us! Amen!
The Book of Mysteries r35
When the children of Horodenka ceased to sing, Israel was
no longer content to remain in that place. He wandered
again, and returned to the town of Okup, where he had been
born. There he became the watcher of the synagogue.
The desire for knowledge came into him; and the joy that
was given him by flowers and beasts in the forests was no
longer sufficient. His mind was afire and thirsty, but his thirst
could be quenched only by those waters that had cooled for
ages deep in the deepest wells of mystery, and the fire within
him was of the sort that burns forever, and does not con-
sume.
The innermost secrets of the Cabbala were for him, and
they were only as stars of night against the sun. For to him
would be revealed the Secret of Secrets.
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HEROES
The boy lived in the synagogue. But since the time for the
revelation of his power was yet far away, he did not show his
passion for the Torah to the men of the synagogue. By day,
he slept, on the benches, pretending to be a clod. But as soon
as the last of the scholars blew out his candle and crept on
his way toward home, Israel rose, and took the candle into a
corner, and lighted it, and all night long he stood and read
the Torah.
In another city the Tsadik Rabbi Adam, master of all mys-
teries, waited the coming of his last day. For in each gener-
ation one is chosen to carry throughout his lifetime the
candle that is lighted from heaven. And the candle may never
be set down. And the soul of the Tsadik may not return to
eternal peace in the regions above until another such soul il-
luminates the earth.
Rabbi Adam was even greater than the Tsadikim who had
been before him. For in the possession of Rabbi Adam was
the Book that contains the Word of eternal might.
Though Rabbi Adam was not one of the Innocent souls, he
had led a life so pure that this Book had been given into his
hands. Before him, only six human beings had possessed the
knowledge that was in the Book of Adam. The Book was
given to the first man, Adam, and it was given to Abraham,
to Joseph, to Joshua ben Nun, and to Solomon. And the sev-
enth to whom it was given was the Tsadik, Rabbi Adam.
This is how he came to receive the Book.
When he had learned all Torah, and all Cabbala, he had
not been content, but had searched day and night for the in-
nermost secret of power. When he knew all the learning that
there was among men, he said, “Man does not know.” And he
had begged of the angels.
One night Rabbi Adam arose from his sleep. He walked
into a wilderness. Before him stood a mountain, and in the
side of the mountain was a cave. And that was one mouth of
the cave, whose other mouth was in the Holy Land. It was
the cave of the Machpelah, where Abraham lies buried.
Rabbi Adam went deep into the cave, and there he found
the Book.
All of his life Rabbi Adam had guarded the secret of
knowledge. Gazing into it, he had grown old, and he had
come to see with the grave eyes of one who sees to the end of
things.
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105
And when he saw himself growing old, he began to ask,
“What will become of my wisdom?”
Then he rose, and looked to the Lord and said, “To whom,
Almighty God, shall I leave the Book of Wisdom? Give me a
son, that I may teach him.”
He was given a son. His son grew, and became learned in
the Torah. The rabbi taught his son all that there was in the
Torah. And he said, “My son learns well.” He began to teach
his son the Cabbala. His son was sharp in understanding. But
when the boy had learned the secrets of the Cabbala, he
asked no more. Then the old heart of Rabbi Adam was
weary and yearned for death. “My son is not the one,” he
said.
Night after night Rabbi Adam prayed to the Almighty that
he might be relieved of the burden of knowledge. And one
night the word came to him, saying, “Give the Book into the
hands of Rabbi Israel, son of Eleazer, who lives in Okup.”
Rabbi Adam was thankful, for now he might give over his
burden, and die. He said to his son, “Here is one book in
which I have not read with you.”
His son asked, “Was I not worthy?”
“You are not the predestined vessel,” said Rabbi Adam.
“You would break with the heat of the fluid.”
Then he said to his son, “Seek out Rabbi Israel, in the city
of Okup, for these leaves belong to him. And if he will be fa-
vourable toward you and receive you as his servant and in-
struct you in his Torah, then count yourself happy. For, my
son, you must know that it is your fate to be the squire who
gives into the hands of his knight the sword that has been
tempered and sharpened by hundreds of divine spirits that
now lie silent under the earth.”
Soon Rabbi Adam died. His son did not think of himself,
but thought only of fulfilling the mission his father had given
into his charge. He deserted the city of his birth and, taking
with him the leaves of the Book, went in search of that Rabbi
Israel of whom his father had spoken.
The son of Rabbi Adam came to the town of Okup. He
wished to keep secret the true reason of his coming, so he
said, “I am seeking a bride. I would marry, and live my life
here.” The people of the town were delighted, and felt greatly
honoured because the son of the Tsadik, Rabbi Adam, had
chosen to live among them.
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HEROES
Every day he went to the synagogue. There he encountered
scholars, and holy men, and rabbis. He asked their names of
them. But he did not meet with any one called Rabbi Israel,
son of Rabbi Eleazer.
Often, when all the others had gone from the synagogue.
Rabbi Adam’s son remained studying the Torah. Then he no-
ticed that the boy who served in the synagogue also remained
there, he saw that the eyes of the boy were bright with inner
knowledge, and that his face was strained with unworldly
happiness.
Rabbi Adam’s son went to the elders of the house of
prayer and said to them, “Let me have a separate room in
which to study. Perhaps I shall want to sleep there sometimes
when I study late into the night. Then give me the boy Israel
as a servant.”
“Why has lie chosen the boy Israel, who is a clod?” the
elders asked.
Then they remembered that Israel was the son of Rabbi
Eleazer. “He has chosen him to honour the memory of his
father, Eleazer, who was a very holy man,” they said.
When the boy came to serve him, the son of Rabbi Adam
asked, “What is your name?”
“Israel, son of Eleazer.”
The master watched the boy, and soon came to feel certain
that this was indeed the Rabbi Israel whom he sought.
One night he remained late in the synagogue. He lay down
on a bench, and pretended to be asleep. He opened his eyes a
little, and he saw how the boy Israel arose and took a candle
and lighted it, and covered the light, standing in a corner and
studying the Torah. For many hours the boy remained mo-
tionless in an intensity of study that the rabbi had known
only in his father, the Tsadik Rabbi Adam.
All night long the boy studied. And when the sunrise em-
braced his candle flame, he slipped down upon the bench,
and slept.
Then the rabbi arose and took a leaf from the holy book
his father had given him, and placed the leaf on the breast of
Israel.
Soon the boy stirred, and sleeping reached his hand toward
the page of writing. He held the page before his eyes, and
opened his eyes and read. As he read, he rose. He bent over
the page of mysteries, and studied it, and his whole face was
aflame, his eyes glowed as if they had pierced into the heart
MIRACLES
107
of the earth, and his hands burned as if they lay against the
heart of the earth.
When full day came, the boy fell powerless upon the
bench, and slept.
The rabbi sat by him and watched over him until he awoke
again. Then the rabbi placed his hand upon the boy’s hand
that held the leaf out of the book. The rabbi took the other
pages of the book, and gave them to him, saying: “Know,
that I place in your hands the infinite wisdom that God gave
forth on Mount Sinai. The words that are in this book have
been entrusted only in the hearts of the chosen of the chosen.
When no soul on earth was worthy to contain its wisdom, this
book lay hidden from man. For centuries it was buried in un-
reachable depths. But always there came the time for its
uncovering, again it was brought to light, again lost. My fa-
ther was the last of the great souls to whom it was entrusted.
I was not found worthy of retaining it, and through my
hands my father transmits this book to your hands. I beg of
you, Rabbi Israel, allow me to be your servant, let me be as
the air about you, absorbing your holy words, that otherwise
would be lost in nothingness.”
Israel answered, “Let it be so. We will go out of the city,
and give ourselves over to the study of this book.”
The son of Rabbi Adam went with Israel to live in a house
that stood outside of the town. There, day and night, they
were absorbed in the study of the pages that contained the
words of all the mysteries.
Israel was as one who feeds on honey and walks on golden
clouds. His soul swelled with tranquil joy, and his heart was
filled with the peace of understanding. Often, he went with
the leaves of the book into the forest, and there, the words of
the book were as the words spoken to him by the flowers and
by the beasts. '
But the son of Rabbi Adam was eaten by that upon which
he fed, and yet his hunger grew ever more insatiable. The
grander the visions that opened before him, the greater was
the cavern within himself. And he was afraid, as one who
stands on a great height and looks downward.
Each day, his eyes sank deeper, and became more red.
Rabbi Israel, seeing the illness that was come into his com-
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HEROES
panion, said to him, “What is it that consumes you? What is
it that you desire?”
Then the son of Rabbi Adam said, “Only one thing can
give me rest. All that has been revealed to me has set me
flaming with a single curiosity, and each new mystery that is
solved before me only causes a greater chaos in my mind,
and a greater hunger in my heart.”
“What is the one thing that you desire?”
“Reveal the Word to me!”
“The Word is inviolate!” cried Rabbi Israel.
But the son of Rabbi Adam fell on his knees and cried,
“Until I see the end of all wisdom, I cannot come to rest! Call
down the highest of powers, the Giver of the Torah Himself,
force Him to come down to us, otherwise I am lost!”
Then the Master shrank from him. He said, “The hour has
not yet come for His descent to earth.”
His companion was silent. He never pleaded with Israel
again.
But each day Rabbi Israel saw his face become darker, and
his body become more feeble. The hands were weak, and
could hardly turn a leaf.
Rabbi Israel was torn with pity for his companion.
At last he said, “Is it still your wish that we name the Giver
of the Torah, and call Him to earth once more?”
The son of Rabbi Adam remained silent. But he lifted his
eyes to the eyes of Rabbi Israel. They were as the eyes of the
dead come to life.
‘Then we must purify our souls, that they may reach the
uttermost power of will.”
On Friday, the two rabbis went to the mikweh, where they
bathed in the spring of holy water. From Sabbath to Sabbath
they fasted, and when they reached the height of their fast
they went again to the mikweh, and purified themselves in
the bath.
On the second Friday night they stood in their house of
prayer. They called upon their own souls and said, “Are you
pure?” Their souls answered, “We have been purified.”
Then Rabbi Israel raised his hands into the darkness, and
cried out the terrible Name.
The son of Rabbi Adam raised his arms aloft, and his
feeble lips moved as he repeated the unknowable Word.
But in the instant that the word left those lips, Israel
touched him and said, “My brother, you have made an error!
MIRACLES
109
Your command was wrongly uttered, it has been caught by
the wind, it has been carried to the Lord of Fire! We are in
the hands of death.”
“I am lost,” said the son of Rabbi Adam, “for I am not
pure.”
“Only one way is left to us,” cried Rabbi Israel. “We must
watch until day comes. If one of us closes an eyelid, the evil
one will seize him, he is lost.”
Then they began to watch. They stood guard over their
souls. With their eyes open they watched. And the hours
passed. They stood in prayer, and the hours passed.
But as dawn came, the son of Rabbi Adam, enfeebled by
his week of purification, and by the long struggle against the
darkness of night, wavered, his head nodded, and sank upcn
the table.
Rabbi Israel reached out his arm to raise him. But in that
moment an unseen thing sped from the mouth of Rabbi
Adam’s son, and a flame devoured his heart, and his body
sank to the ground.
The Trial of Rabbi Gershon 38
Rabbi Gershon of Kuth would not believe in the power of
his brother-in-law. He said, “Rabbi Israel is nothing but a
lime-burner come out of the mountains. He couldn’t even
earn a living as a tavemkeeper.”
Once he went to Medzibuz to visit his sister. And he
thought, “Let me see the wonder-working of this brother-in-
law of mine.” So he remained over the Sabbath.
On Friday afternoon he saw Rabbi Israel prepare for the
Mincha prayer. “But it is still very early,” said Rabbi Ger-
shon. Nevertheless, the Master began to pray. And when
Rabbi Israel came to say the benediction he remained stand-
ing motionless on his feet for four whole hours. Perspiration
was upon his forehead, and his face was in an agony of la-
bour. But at last he made an end to his prayer.
“Why did you take four hours to say the benedictions?”
asked Rabbi Gershon.
“Stay until next Sabbath,” said Rabbi Israel, “and I shall
teach you how to say the benedictions as I say them.”
Now, the truth was that when the Master said the bene-
dictions on the eve of Sabbath, he first uttered the Word of
the Will, that sundered the bonds of all dead and living souls.
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HEROES
Then myriads of dead souls came rushing toward him out of
their eternal wandering in nothingness, and begged him to
put them in his prayers, so that his prayers might at last carry
them into heaven.
When he uttered the words “Quicken the Dead!” he was
always surrounded by these innumerable exiled souls, and it
was the labour of carrying these souls into heaven that occu-
pied him for so many hours. But at this labour he worked un-
ceasingly, lifting the dead souls onto the wings of his
powerful prayers, and sending them into heaven, until he
heard the Daughter of the Voice call “Holy! Holy!” Then he
knew that no more souls could be admitted into heaven on
that day, and he made an end to his prayer.
On the following Friday afternoon the Baal Shem Tov said
to his brother-in-law Rabbi Gershon, “I will tell you a word
to utter before you begin the Mincha prayer. Then you will
understand why I remain so many hours over the bene-
dictions.” And he whispered the secret Word of the Will to
Rabbi Gershon.
Rabbi Gershon repeated the Word, and began to say Min-
cha.
But Rabbi Israel himself did not begin to pray. He stood
and toyed with his tobacco pouch, and fingered the alms-box,
and waited. He waited until Rabbi Gershon came to the
words “Quicken the Dead!”
And in that instant there came a terrible rush of souls,
thousands upon thousands of dead souls came flying to crowd
weeping and shrieking and begging around the praying Rabbi
Gershon. And Rabbi Gershon fainted with fright.
When the Baal Shem Tov had taken care of his brother-
in-law, he set himself to say the benedictions, and helped
those thousands of souls into heaven.
The Poor Wayfarer 37
The great wonder-working saint. Rabbi Meier Primishlaner,
blessings on his name, once related the following story:
‘ When I was a young man I had an irresistible desire to
see Elijah the Prophet, and so I pleaded with my father to
show him to me. My father replied, ‘If you study the Torah
with unceasing devotion you’ll become worthy of seeing him.*
“I, therefore, applied myself ardently to my studies, pored
over the sacred books by night and by day for four weeks.
MIRACLES
111
Then I went to my father and told him, ‘I’ve done what you
asked me to do, but, I assure you, the Prophet Elijah has
failed to reveal himself.’
“So my father replied, ‘Don’t you be so impatient! If you
deserve it he’ll surely reveal himself to you.’
“One night, as I sat at my desk in my father’s House of
Study, a poor man came in. He was dusty from the road and
dressed in tatters, one patch laid on the other. Moreover, he
had a very ugly face. On his bent back he carried a heavy
pack. As he began to put his pack down I restrained him.
Don’t you do this!’ I rebuked him angrily. ‘What do you
take this holy place to be — a tavern?’
“ Tm very tired!’ the wayfarer pleaded. ‘Let me rest here
awhile, then I’ll look for lodgings.’
“ ‘It’s no use,’ I told him, ‘you can’t rest here! My father
doesn t like all kinds of tramps to come and settle themselves
here with their dusty packs.’
So the stranger sighed, lifted his pack to his shoulders,
and went away.
“No sooner had he gone, than my father came in.
“ ‘Well, have you seen the Prophet Elijah?’ he asked me.
“ ‘No, not yet,’ I replied sadly.
“ ‘Was, nobody here today?’ he further asked.
Yes,’ I said. ‘A poor wayfarer carrying a heavy pack
was here just before.’
“ ‘Did you say sholom aleichem to him?’
“ ‘That I didn’t.’
“ ‘Why didn’t you? Didn’t you know it was Elijah? Now
I m afraid it’s too late!’
Ever since, said Rabbi Meier Primishlaner, concluding
his story, “I’ve taken upon myself the sacred obligation to say
sholom aleichem with a full heart to every man, no matter
who he is, or how he looks, or what his station in life may
The Cabalists38
Lt bad times the finest merchandise loses its value, even the
lorah which is the best Schoirah. And thus of the big Ye-
shtva of Lashtshivo, there remained only the principal, Reb
Yekel, and one of his students.
The principal is an old, lean Jew, with a long unkempt
beard and extinguished eyes. Lemech, his favourite pupil, is a
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HEROES
tall, slight, pale-faced youth, with black curly locks, sparkling,
dark-rimmed eyes, dry lips, and an emaciated throat, showing
the pointed Adam’s apple. Both the principal and his pupil
are wearing tattered garments showing their naked breasts, as
they are top poor to buy shirts. With great difficulty the prin-
cipal is dragging on his feet a pair of peasant’s boots, whilst
the student, with stockingless feet, is shuffling along in a pair
of sabots much too big for him. The two alone had remained
of all the inmates of the once famous Yeshiva.
Since the impoverished townspeople had begun to send less
and less food to the Yeshiva and to offer fewer days to the
students, the latter had made tracks for other towns. Reb
Yekel, however, was resolved to die and be buried at Lasht-
shivo, whilst his favourite pupil was anxious to close his be-
loved master’s eyes.
Both now very frequently suffer the pangs of hunger. And
when you take insufficient nourishment your nights are often
sleepless, and after a good many hungry days and sleepless
nights you begin to feel an inclination to study the Cabbala.
If you are already forced to lie awake at night and go hungry
during the day, then why not at least derive some benefit
from such a life? At least avail yourself of your long fasts
and mortifications of the body to force open the gates of the
invisible world and get a glimpse of all the mysteries it con-
tains, of angels and spirits.
_ And thus the two had been studying the Cabbala for some
time. They are now seated at a long table in the empty lec-
ture-room. Other Jews had already finished their mid-day
meal, but for these two it was still before breakfast! They are,
however, quite used to it. His eyes half-shut, the principal is
talking, whilst the pupil, his head leaning on both his hands,
is listening.
“There are,” the principal is saying, “four degrees of per-
fection. One man knows only a small portion, another a half,
whilst a third knows an entire melody. The Rebbe, of blessed
memory, knew, for instance, an entire melody. And I,” he
added sadly, “I have only been vouchsafed the grace of
knowing but a small piece, a very small piece, just as big
as ”
He measured a tiny portion of his lean and emaciated fin-
ger, and continued:
“There are melodies which require words. That is the
lowest degree. There is also a higher degree; it is a melody
MIRACLES
113
that requires no words, it is sung without words — as a pure
melody. But even this melody requires a voice and lips to
express itself. And the lips, you understand me, are apper-
taining to matter. The voice itself, though a nobler and higher
form of matter, is still material in its essence. We may say
that the voice is standing on the border-line between matter
and spirit. Anyhow, the melody which is still dependent upon
voice and lips is not yet pure, not yet entirely pure, not real
spirit.
“The true, highest melody, however, is that which is sung
without any voice. It resounds in the interior of man, is vi-
brating in his heart and in all his limbs.
“And that is how we are to understand the words of King
David, when he says in his Psalms: ‘All my bones are prais-
ing the Lord.’ The melody should vibrate in the marrow of
our bones, and such is the most beautiful song of praise
addressed to the Lord, blessed be His name. For such a mel-
ody has not been invented by a being of flesh and blood; it is
a portion of that melody with which the Lord once created
the Universe: it is a part of the soul which He has breathed
into His creation. It is thus that the heavenly hosts are sing-
ing ”
The sudden arrival of a ragged fellow, a carrier, his loins
girt with a cord, interrupted the lecture. Entering the room,
the messenger placed a dish of gruel soup and a piece of
bread upon the table before the Rosh-Y eshiva and said in a
rough voice, “Reb Tevel sends this food for the Rosh-Ye-
shiva.” Turning to the door, he added: “I will come later to
fetch the dish.”
Tom away from the celestial harmonies by the sound of
the fellow’s voice, the principal slowly and painfully rose
from his seat and dragged his feet in their heavy boots to the
water basin near the door, where he performed the ritual
ablution of his hands. He continued to talk all the time, but
with less enthusiasm, whilst the pupil was following him with
shining, dreamy eyes, and straining his ears.
“I have not even been found worthy,” said the principal
sadly, “to know the degree at which this can be attained, nor
do I know through which of the celestial gates it enters. You
see,” he added with a smile, “I know well enough the neces-
sary mortifications and prayers, and I will communicate them
to you even to-day.”
The eyes of the student are almost starting out of their
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HEROES
sockets, and his mouth is wide open; he is literally swallowing
every word his master is uttering. But the master interrupts
himself. He performs the ritual ablution of his hands, dries
them, and recites the prescribed benediction; he then returns
to the table and breaking off a piece of bread, recites with
trembling lips the prescribed blessing. His shaking hands now
seize the dish, and the moist vapour covers his emaciated
face. He puts down the dish upon the table, takes the spoon
into his right hand, whilst warming his left at the edge of the
dish; all the time he is munching in his toothless mouth the
morsel of bread over which he had said a blessing.
When his face and hands were warm enough, he wrinkled
his brow and extending his thin, blue lips, began to blow. The
pupil was staring at him all the time. But when the trembling
lips of the old man were stretching out to meet the first
spoonful of soup, something squeezed the young man’s heart.
Covering his face with his hands, he seemed to have shriv-
elled up.
A few minutes had scarcely elapsed when another man
came in, also carrying a basin full of gruel soup and a piece
of bread.
“Reb Yoissef sends the student his breakfast,” he said.
The student never removed his hands from his face. Put-
ting down his own spoon, the principal rose and went up to
him. For a moment he looked down at the boy with eyes full
of pride and love; then touching his shoulder, he said in a
friendly and affectionate voice, “They have brought you
food.”
Slowly and unwillingly the student removed his hands from
his face. He seemed to have grown paler still, and his dark-
rimmed eyes were burning with an even more mysterious fire.
I know, Rabbi,” he said, “but I am not going to eat to-
day.”
“Are you going to fast the fourth day?” asked the Rosh-
Yeshiva, greatly surprised. “And without me?” he added in a
somewhat hurt tone.
“It is a particular fast-day,” replied the student. “I am fast-
ing to-day for penance.”
“What are you talking about? Why must you do penance?”
'Yes, Rabbi, I must do penance, because a while ago,
when you had just started to eat, I transgressed the com-
mandment which says, ‘Thou shalt not covet ’ ”
MIRACLES
115
Late in the night the student woke up his master. The two
were sleeping side by side on benches in the old lecture-hall.
“Rebbe, Rebbel” called the student in a feeble voice.
“What is the matter?” The Rosh-Y eshiva woke with a start
“Just now, I have been upon the highest summit.”
“How’s that?” asked the principal, not yet quite awake.
‘There was a melody, and it has been singing in me.”
The principal sat up.
“How’s that? How’s that?”
“I don’t know it myself, Rebbe,” answered the student in
an almost inaudible voice. “As I could not find sleep I
plunged myself into your lecture. I was anxious at any cost to
learn that melody. Unable, however, to succeed, I was greatly
grieved and began to weep. Everything in me was weeping,
all my members were weeping before the Creator of the Uni-
verse. I recited the prayers and formulas you taught me;
strange to say, not with my lips, but deep down in my heart.
And suddenly I was dazzled by a great light. I closed my
eyes, yet I could not shut out the light around me, a powerful
dazzling light.”
‘That’s it,” said the old man leaning over.
“And in the midst of the strange light I felt so strong, so
light-hearted. It seemed to me as if I had no weight, as if my
body had lost its heaviness and that I could fly.”
“That’s right; that’s right.”
“And then I felt so merry, so happy and lively. My face
remained motionless, my lips never stirred, and yet I laughed.
I laughed so joyously, so heartily, so frankly and happily.”
‘That’s it; that’s it. That is right, in the intensest joy ”
“Then something began to hum in me, as if it were the be-
ginning of a melody.”
The Rosh-Y eshiva jumped up from his bench and stood up
by his pupil’s side.
“And then? And then?”
“Then I heard how it was singing in me.”
“And what did you feel? What? What? Tell me!”
“I felt as if all my senses were closed and stopped; and
there was something singing in me, just as it should be, with-
out either words or tunes, only so ”
“How? How?”
“No, I can’t say. At first I knew, then the song became ”
“What did the song become? What ?”
“A sort of music, as if there had been a violin in me, or as
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HEROES
if Yoineh, the musician, was sitting in my heart and playing
one of the tunes he plays at the Rebbe's table. But it sounded
much more beautiful, nobler and sadder, more spiritual; and
all this was voiceless and tuneless, mere spirit.”
“You lucky man !”
u ^nd now is gone,” said the pupil, growing very sad.
“My senses have again woke up, and I am so tired, so terri-
bly tired that I. . . . Rebbe!” the student suddenly cried,
beating his breast. ‘Rebbe, recite with me the confession of
the dying. They have to come to fetch me; they require a
new choir-boy in the celestial choir. There is a white-winged
angel — Rebbe — Rebbe — Shmah Yisroel, Shmah ”
Everybody in the town wished to die such a death, but the
Rosh-Yeshiva found that it was not enough.
Another few fast-days,” he said, “and he would have died
quite a different death. He would have died by a Divine
Kiss.”
The Rabbi Who Wished to Abolish Death 39
It chanced once that a great calamity almost befell the An-
gel of Death. He came pretty near losing the knife with
which he severs the life of man.
When Rabbi Joshua ben Levi was at the point of death the
Angel of Death came to see him.
“Show me first my place in Paradise,” pleaded Rabbi
Joshua. “That will make it easier for me to depart from this
life.”
“Come, I will show you,” answered the Angel of Death.
And so they ascended to the celestial regions.
On the way, Rabbi Joshua said to the Angel of Death, “Do
give me your knife. I am afraid that you will frighten me
with it while we are on the way.”
The Angel of Death felt pity for him and gave him his
knife.
When they at last arrived in Paradise the Angel of Death
showed Rabbi Joshua the place reserved for him. A great
yearning then seized Rabbi Joshua and he sprang forward
within the Gates. But the Angel of Death seized hold of him
by the skirts of his garment and tried to pull him back.
Having the knife in his possession Rabbi Joshua refused to
budge from his place.
“I swear I will not leave Paradise!” he cried.
MIRACLES
117
Thereupon, a great tumult was heard among the angels. It
seemed very much as if death was about to be abolished from
the world and people would be able to live forever, like the
angels. /
The Angel of Death stood in a great quandary. “What to
do now?” he wondered.
The holy man had solemnly sworn that he would not leave
Paradise, and who could violate the oath of such a man? So
the Angel of Death went to complain to God Himself. And
God said, “I decree that Rabbi Joshua must return to earth.
His time has not come yet.”
The Angel of Death came again to Rabbi Joshua and de-
manded in a terrible voice, “Give me back my knife!”
“I will not give it back to you!” cried Rabbi Joshua. “I
want to abolish Death forever!”
Suddenly the Voice of God was heard sternly command-
ing, “Return the knife, Joshua! Man must continue to die!”
Asking for the Impossible 40
In the days of Rabbi Isaac Luria, or as he was better known,
Ari Hakodesh, “the Holy Lion,” there lived in a certain coun-
try a king whose feet rested heavily on the necks of the Jews
in his kingdom.
One day, he issued a royal proclamation ordering the Jews
to raise for him an enormous sum of money in a very short
time. Should they fail to carry out his command fully he
threatened to drive them out of his kingdom.
When the Jews read the king’s proclamation they rent their
garments, strewed ashes upon their heads and went into
mourning. Fervently they prayed to God to intercede for
them and rescue them from certain disaster. For the Jews
were very poor. Where could they get the money the king
asked for? In their extremity they thought of “the Holy Lion.”
So they sent two messengers to him in Safed where he lived.
Blessed with fair winds the ship that carried the two mes-
sengers arrived safely in the Land of Israel. They journeyed
by caravan to Safed without rest and reached the city late
Friday, just before the holy Sabbath was ushered in.
Without loss of time they called on the Master of the
Cabala. They found him attired in spotless white robes and
surrounded by worshipful disciples. His face shone as radiant-
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ly as the springtime sun and he had the appearance of an
angel of God.
“What brings you to Safed?” he asked the two messengers.
They answered: “We have come to ask for your intercession
with God in order that we may not perish from the earth.”
And they told him of the mortal danger they and all their
brethren in the distant kingdom were in.
When they had spoken the Seer replied, “It is a sin to
desecrate the peace of the Sabbath with sad thoughts. Remain
with me until tomorrow night, then you will depart. Ban-
ish all fear and be carefree, for God never abandons the
righteous.”
When the following evening came and Rabbi Isaac Luria
had finished blessing the departing Sabbath-Bride, he turned
to his disciples and to the two messengers and said:
“Take with you a long rope and follow me.”
So they all did as he bade them and followed him into the
fields. At last he stopped before a deep pit and commanded:
“Lower the rope into the bottom of this pit and hold fast
to the end.”
The disciples and the messengers did as he told them.
“Now pull with all your might!” he ordered.
Filled with wonder they pulled on the rope and felt a great
weight below. When they had drawn the object to the surface
they were startled to see that it was a magnificent couch. They
could hardly believe their own eyes at what they saw: on it lay
a king fast asleep.
Rabbi Isaac went up to the sleeper and shook him, crying,
“Are you the hard-hearted ruler who so cruelly oppresses the
Jews in his kingdom?”
“I am,” answered the king, quaking in every limb.
“Get up, then!” sternly commanded the holy man.
The king got out of bed; his face was full of fear. Rabbi
Isaac then handed him a dipper that had no bottom and said,
“Empty the well with this dipper. I expect you to be through
with your task before dawn.”
When the king saw that this dipper had no bottom he wailed,
“Even were I to live a thousand years I wouldn’t be able to
empty the well with this useless dipper!”
“Since you recognize that what I’ve asked you to do is im-
possible to accomplish — why then do you ask the impossible
of the poor Jews in your kingdom?”
MIRACLES 119
The king lowered his eyes and murmured, “You are
right — I will withdraw my command. Only spare my life!”
“You must guarantee your assurance to me with your sig-
net-ring,” answered Rabbi Isaac.
And the king did as he was asked.
The following morning, when the king awoke from his
sleep, he thought he had dreamt it all.
“What a frightful dream that was!” he shuddered. “Dreams
are nothing but lies.”
And he dismissed the matter from his mind.
When the day finally came for the Jews to bring the re-
quired sum of money the two messengers came before the
king. They showed him his rescinding order with his signa-
ture. He recognized his seal and said, “It is my signature.”
Then he gave them presents and let them depart in peace.
Rashi and Godfrey of Bouillon 41
In the days of the great scholar, Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac
(Rashi), there lived in France the famous Godfrey de Bouil-
lon. He was a brave man and a hero in battle, but he was
also a destructive, cruel man. The repute of Rabbi Solomon’s
wisdom was spread over the land and also reached the ears of
Godfrey. The prince tried his utmost to draw Rabbi Solomon
into his service but to no avail; the scholar refused to leave
his home.
_ Angered by the rabbi’s stubbornness, Godfrey, accompa-
nied by his men-at-arms, hastened to the town where the
rabbi lived. He came before the House of Study and found
all the doors wide open. The holy books lay open on the
rabbi’s desk yet he was nowhere to be seen.
“Solomon, Solomon!” Godfrey cried out in a loud voice.
The scholar replied, “What do you want of me, my lord?”
But, wondrous to relate, although Godfrey could hear his
voice he could not see him.
“Where are you?” he asked him.
“I am right here,” Rabbi Solomon replied.
“Why don’t you reveal yourself in the flesh?”
“I am afraid of you.”
“Don’t fear me,” Godfrey begged him. “I promise to do
you no harm.”
Hearing these words, Rabbi Solomon made himself visible
before Godfrey.
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HEROES
“Now you have convinced me of your wisdom about
which I have heard so much,” said Godfrey. “I am going to
tell you of the great plans I have made. My wish is to con-
quer Jerusalem from the Saracens. I have at my command
two hundred large ships and one hundred thousand horse-
men. There are also seven thousand horsemen in Akron who
are ready to join my standard. With these forces I expect to
crush the Saracens who are expert in the art of war. There-
fore tell me, what do you think of my outlook for victory
and don’t be afraid to speak your mind.”
Rabbi Solomon answered, “You will conquer Jerusalem
but will rule over it only three days. On the fourth day the
Saracens will rout you, and you will escape with only three
horsemen.”
Hearing this Godfrey of Bouillon was very angry.
“Beware, Jew!” he cried. “Should I return with four horse-
men I will throw your carcass to the dogs and kill all Jews in
the kingdom.”
In the end it happened exactly as Rabbi Solomon foretold,
but with one important exception: Godfrey of Bouillon re-
turned, not with three but with four horsemen. He therefore
gloated over the prospect of revenging himself on the scholar.
As Godfrey reached the town where Rabbi Solomon lived,
a stone fell from the lintel of the gate and killed one of the
four horsemen and his mount. At this Godfrey was filled with
fear; he understood now, that with his great wisdom Rabbi
Solomon had foreseen everything. Therefore, he went in
search of him in order that he might do him homage.
But in the meantime the scholar had gone to join his fore-
fathers and Godfrey grieved after him.
Rabbi Amram’s Rhine Journey 42
The teacher Rabbi Amram left his home town of Mayence
for Cologne. There he opened a Talmudic college.
As the years passed and he grew old and infirm he saw
that he no longer had the required strength to return to the
town of his birth. Therefore, he instructed his students that,
upon his death, they were to carry his body to Mayence and
there bury it beside the graves of his forefathers. The students
remarked that such a journey was charged with great danger
for them.
To this Rabbi Amram answered, “Purify my body after I
MIRACLES
121
die. Lay it in a coffin and then place the coffin in a small
boat. Let the boat loose and it will drift with the tide up the
River Rhine. In this way it will reach its right destination.”
The time came at last when the soul departed from Rabbi
Amram and his students went to fulfill their promise. They
placed his coffin in a boat and set it adrift on the stream.
When the river-boatmen saw the strange bark with the cof-
fin they understood that it carried a holy man whom they
were duty-bound to lay in a grave in their town. So they
stretched out their hands to pull the boat in, but, to their as-
tonishment, the vessel glided backwards out of their reach. In
this they saw the hand of God so they went to report the in-
cident to the authorities.
When news of this got abroad multitudes came swarming
to the river edge to see the extraordinary sight. Among them
were also several Jews.
Once more the river-boatmen tried to lay their hands on
the boat, but again the tiny craft glided away from them. It
floated for a little distance until it reached the spot where the
Jews stood.
Seeing this the authorities said to them, “Get into the boat
and put an end to this mystery.”
The Jews reached out their hands and the boat swiftly
glided towards them. They climbed into it and pried open the
lid of the coffin. There they saw the body of the sage and on
it lay a scroll with Hebrew writing. It read: “Dear brothers
and friends, members of the Holy Community of Mayence: I
come to you from Cologne where I departed this life. I beg
of you — bury me near where my forefathers lie.”
At this the Jews went into mourning. They drew the coffin
from the boat and placed it beside the bank of the Rhine. Rut
the Christian burghers of Mayence wouldn’t permit the coffin
of the holy man to remain in the hands of the Jews, so they
drove them away. They then tried to carry away the dead
man in order to give him proper burial, but they could not
lift the coffin. So they placed watchmen to guard it and on
the very spot they erected a chapel which they henceforth
called the Chapel of Amram.
In vain the Jews implored the authorities to return to them
the body of Rabbi Amram.
Every night thereafter the spirit of Rabbi Amram appeared
to his former students in Mayence in a dream.
“Bury me where my forefathers lie!” he begged them.
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HEROES
The students held counsel with one another in order that
they might do their departed rabbi’s urgent bidding.
One dark night they went and cut down the body of a
criminal that hung on a tree outside the town. They drew
Rabbi Amram’s shroud on him and laid him in his place in
the coffin. The holy man they bore to the Jewish cemetery
and laid him to eternal rest according to the rites and cus-
toms of the Jews.
The Hidden Saint 43
In the holy city of Safed lived one of the Lamed-Vav-Tzad-
dikim ,44 one of the thirty-six secret saints. He was very poor
but he shared his crust with those who were even poorer than
he. Yet he wished to disguise his virtue so that no one might
say he was good and cause him to fall into the error of self-
righteousness.
As the Passover holidays came near this meek saint fell
gravely ill and was no longer able to earn his crust. His wife
and children now suffered hunger. There seemed no chance
at all that they would have the money to buy matzos and
wine. And, since they were proud, no one knew of their
plight. But the saint consoled his household, “Have faith in
God — He raises up the fallen!”
No one in Safed knew of the holy man’s trials except
Rabbi Isaac Luria, “The Holy Lion,” the Master of the secret
wisdom of the Cabala. He took off his white garments of sanc-
tity and put on a wayfarer’s dusty clothes. With wanderer’s
staff in hand and a knapsack on his back he went forth to aid
the hidden saint.
For a while he passed to and fro before the hidden saint’s
dwelling. Finally, when the good man came out, he saw
standing before him a dusty traveller.
“Sholom aleichem!” the traveller greeted him.
“Aleichem sholom!" answered the saint. “Are you looking
for someone?”
“No, but I’m in trouble,” sighed the stranger. “I have no
place to spend the holy Passover.”
“I’ve nothing to give you, but you’re welcome to stay with
me,” answered the saint.
The traveller was grateful and rejoiced in his good fortune.
“Here are a hundred dinar ” he said to the saint. “Prepare
the Passover feast!”
MIRACLES 123
“What is your name?” asked the hidden saint in amaze-
ment.
“Rabbi Nissim they call me,” the stranger replied.
On the first night of Passover the saint sat down to read
the Seder service that tells of the liberation of the Jews from
their bondage in Egypt, but he would not begin without the
stranger who had not returned yet from the synagogue. He
waited and waited, but in vain. Rabbi Nissim seemed to have
disappeared. Suddenly, in a flash of illumination, the identity
of the stranger became clear to him. No doubt the good Lord
had sent an angel from Heaven to help him in his need!
Yet, neither he nor any one else knew that this Rabbi Nis-
sim (Miracles) was none other than The Holy Lion, the Ari
himself.
Messiah Stories
Introduction
There is no agreement in Jewish tradition as to when and
where the Messiah will come. One belief is that when men grow
hopelessly bad that will be the time to expect his coming. An-
other belief is that he will come only when misfortune will rise
up and sweep over Israel like the sea at flood-tide. Still another
view is that the son of David will come to that generation which
will repent of its evil ways and become thoroughly righteous.
Once, two sages of the Talmud, Rabbi Hai the Great and
Rabbi Simeon ben Halafta, were travelling all night in the valley
of Arbal. As the first rays of the sun shot over the rim of the
horizon Rabbi Hai was filled with rapture. “Rabbi,” he cried to his
companion, “this will be the way the Jewish Redemption will
come, like the rising sun, gradually, slowly, until it will appear in
the sky in all its dazzling radiance.”
The longing for the Messiah’s coming was the golden dream of
the Jewish people through the ages. The greater its suffering, the
more unendurable its persecution — -the more compelling became
its escape drive to the mysticism of the Cabala. Where it could
not cope with the problems of life by ordinary means its desper-
ation led it to reach out to the supernatural, like day-dreaming
children. By invoking the magical yet ever elusive powers sup-
posed to reside in the hidden wisdom of the Cabala, they hoped
to bring an end to their Exile and to their suffering. To hasten
the coming of the Messiah and the Redemption of Israel became.
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HEROES
therefore, the single-minded objective of all cabalists, including
some of the Eighteenth Century Hasidic tzaddikim.
The Messiah quest of the Cabalists is nowhere as strikingly
projected as in the legend of Joseph della Reyna. It is the Golden
Legend of the cabalists and is imbued with a lofty altruism. Con-
sidered in relation to the spirit and the culture of the times, the
cabalists, by and large, were men of selfless and pure intention.
To hasten the Redemption they were ready to offer every personal
sacrifice, even to the extent of life itself.
Of all the legends of the cabalists that of Joseph della Reyna is
the most dramatic. For many generations it has stirred the imag-
ination and emotions of the Jewish folk-mind, for it articulates its
ages-old longing for the Messiah. The Messianic tradition is the
most fundamental and pervasive in Jewish religious thought. It
poignantly reflects the frustration of the life-force of a whole
people for many centuries. To the discerning reader it soon be-
comes clear that, behind all the medieval magical trappings of the
legend of Joseph della Reyna, so natural to a superstitious age,
there shines forth a moving ethical doctrine that is imbued with a
compassion and selfless love for mankind.
NA
Joseph della Reyna Storms Heaven 45
Seeing that there were in Jerusalem so many pious men who
sought God and loved truth. Rabbi Joseph della Reyna came
to a firm decision:
“It is high time to force the coming of the Messiah!”
He knew full well that it would not be an easy thing to ac-
complish. None the less, he remained hopeful that where oth-
ers had failed he would succeed.
Among his disciples there were five who were pure in heart
and in intention. They were cabalists who had delved deeply
into the secret truths of the Zohar. Night and day they sat
with Rabbi Joseph over their sacred studies. It was to them
that he revealed all the hidden wisdom of this world and the
next. Together they would grieve and lament over the Exile
of the Shekhina' 48 and over the sorrows of the Jewish people
in dispersion.
Once, as they sat studying the Cabala with deep inner rap-
ture, Rabbi Joseph paused and said to the five disciples,
“Know, that I have given much thought about you and have
gone through great inner searching about myself. The Lord
has blessed us with wisdom and knowledge. We have ac-
MIRACLES
125
quired a greater mastery of the Cabala than have all those
who have come before us. To us have been revealed all the
innermost secrets of the Torah. By its power we are capable
of performing the greatest wonders. For these reasons I have
come to the conclusion that it is our duty to use these excep-
tional powers for great ends. We are able to accomplish
something that will be sure to create a tremendous stir on
earth and in heaven.
“My beloved sons, it is our sacred duty to drive all evil
from the world, to hasten the coming of the Messiah, to
redeem the Jewish people and to bring back the Holy
Shekhina from its long Exile.
“Don’t think I have arrived at my decision lightly. I have
concerned myself with this matter for a long time and have
drawn up my plans in detail. But because it is difficult for
one individual to accomplish such a tremendous task I there-
fore require your help.”
The five disciples answered as with one voice, “Holy
Rabbi! We are eager to do everything necessary in order to
help you in this great work. We know that God, blessed be
His Name, is with you, and we hope that you will succeed in
achieving your goal.”
When Rabbi Joseph della Reyna heard this he rejoiced
greatly and said to them, “We must now make ready for our
holy task. Go, therefore, and bathe, put on clean raiment,
and for three days and three nights thereafter you must keep
your bodies and souls pure and holy. After that you will
prepare food and drink to last a long time. On the third day
we will go forth into the wilderness. We cannot return until
we have successfully carried out our mission.”
The disciples then went about making their preparations
with great inner trembling. Their spirits, too, were filled with
a sacred flame and longing to accomplish their task. So they
bathed and made themselves clean. They put on white
raiment and renounced all worldly interests. They preserved
their bodies and their thoughts in purity and holiness. They
also prepared ample provisions for the long journey.
On the third day they came to Rabbi Joseph della Reyna.
When they arrived they found Rabbi Joseph in deep thought;
a dazzling radiance streamed from his face. He was praying
with such deep ecstasy that his soul seemed to have risen
aloft from this world of sin. It soared upwards into the
highest regions of Heaven.
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HEROES
When Rabbi Joseph saw his disciples he greeted them with
the tenderness of a father.
“Come to me, my beloved disciples,” he said. “You have
done what I have asked of you. You are now worthy of help-
ing me in my sacred task. God, blessed be He, will most as-
suredly show us the way. He will help us reach our goal by
the power of His Holy Name.”
“Amen!” the disciples answered fervently.
Their souls became intertwined with his and rose up from
the sinful world, winging their way to the pure celestial
regions.
Rabbi Joseph also had completed his preparations. Besides
food and drink, he took along with him a writing quill and
parchment.
“Let us go!” he said to his disciples.
And then they started out on their quest.
At last they came to Meron and prayed at the grave of
Rabbi Simeon ben Yohai, the teacher of all cabalists, the
author of the Zohar.
They spent three days and three nights there. They neither
ate nor slept but delved into the mysteries of the Zohar and
sent up flaming prayers to God.
On the third day, when dawn began to break. Rabbi
Joseph suddenly ended his vigil and fell asleep. This filled his
disciples with alarm. Could it be that the master’s spirit was
blemished with weakness? But they held their peace and did
not say a word.
As Rabbi Joseph slept he dreamed that Rabbi Simeon ben
Yohai and his son Eleazer came and reproved him: “How
rash of you to have undertaken such a terrifying task as this!
Be forewarned: you will fail miserably in your attempt! You
will be beset by insuperable difficulties and dangers. You can-
not emerge out of this alive and, having failed, your souls
will be condemned to everlasting purgatory. However, since
you are resolute in your decision, let us caution you to be
discreet in your speech and in your actions, so that those evil
spirits who wish to do you harm may not have any power
over you.”
“Almighty God, blessed be His Name, knows my pure in-
tention,” replied Rabbi Joseph. “He knows full well that what
I am doing is not for my selfish ends but for the good of all
the Jews and of all mankind. Therefore, He will help me
MIRACLES
127
achieve my goal in order that I may sanctify His Name
among all the peoples of the earth.”
The souls of Rabbi Simeon ben Yohai and his son Eleazer
then gave their blessings to Rabbi Joseph.
“May God help and keep you wherever you may turn!”
they prayed.
Rabbi Joseph awoke and told his disciples what he had
dreamed. They then understood that he had fallen asleep by
the Will of God, and that it was not due to weakness of
spirit.
Then they arose and continued on their way.
Not far from Tiberias they came to a large forest and re-
mained there all day. They tasted neither food nor drink for
they wished to purify their bodies and spirits from earthly
taint.
The beauty of the forest enveloped them. Cool green trees
wafted their fragrance everywhere. The birds sat in the
branches trilling their songs of joy to the Creator. But Rabbi
Joseph and his disciples neither saw nor heard them out of
fear that sensuous thoughts might snare them away from
their sacred mission.
All day long they delved into the profoundest mysteries of
Cabala, studied the sacred formulae, calculated gematriot 47
and drew mystic designs of God’s ten emanations, the Sefirot.
This they did for two days and neither ate nor drank, all
the time remaining apart from the earth and from its
pleasures. Thirty-three times a day they purified their bodies
in the Sea of Galilee and each time they repeated the holy
formulae and incantations.
At the end of each day they broke their fast. But they
tasted neither fish nor flesh. They ate only bread and water,
but not too much of that, only enough to keep alive.
On the afternoon of the third day Rabbi Joseph and his
disciples recited the Mincha prayers with great fervor and, as
they stood silently pronouncing the eighteen benedictions,
their thoughts dwelled with utmost concentration on the
secret mysteries of the Cabala.
Rabbi Joseph della Reyna then prayed by himself. He in-
voked all the angels and seraphim to come to his aid. By the
power of the Cabala he invoked the Prophet Elijah to make
his appearance before him.
“O Elijah,” he exhorted. “Come to me and teach me how I
128
HEROES
should behave so that I may carry through the plan I have
undertaken!”
No sooner had he finished praying than Elijah appeared.
“Tell me what it is you wish and 1 will teach it to you,” he
promised.
“Forgive me, Holy Prophet, for troubling you,” Rabbi
Joseph replied. “Believe me, it is not for my own glory and
not for that of my ancestors but for the glory of God, blessed
be His Name, of His people and of His Holy Torah. I believe
I deserve your help. Show me the way I can triumph over Sa-
tan and his hosts. Show me how I can make holiness triumph
over evil and thus bring redemption to all mankind.”
Elijah the Prophet grew sad.
“I wish to warn you,” he said, “that you have taken upon
yourself a task that no human being can accomplish. In order
to vanquish Satan and his demons you and your disciples
must become holier and purer than you are. I might say that
to triumph over Satan you will have to become like the very
angels. Your aim, of course, is an exalted one and, should
you succeed, you will be the happiest man on earth for you
will have brought redemption to the whole world. Neverthe-
less, I warn you that you are attempting something beyond
your human strength. Take my advice — abandon your plan!”
Thereupon Rabbi Joseph began to weep.
“Dear Prophet of God,” he pleaded. “How can I give up
what I have started? Do not abandon me now! It is too late
for me to turn back. I have sworn before God that I will not
rest until I have driven Satan from the earth and have
brought Messiah, the Redeemer of the Jewish people and of
all peoples. I will not rest until I have restored the Shekhina
to the glory it possessed when the Temple still stood in
Jerusalem. For these ends I am eager to sacrifice my life.
Know that I will not let you go until you help me and show
me the right path to follow and the right course to take.”
As the Prophet Elijah looked upon Rabbi Joseph della
Reyna he was filled with a great compassion for him.
“Dry your tears, dear son,” he said. “I will help you in
whatever way I can to fulfill your task. You and your disciples
must continue fasting for twenty-one days, nor must you
touch any impure thing. When you break your fast at night
eat only a morsel of bread, just enough to keep alive. In addi-
tion, you must bathe twenty-one times in the Sea of Galilee
so that you become pure and holy like the angels. And, when
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129
the twenty-one days are up, you must enter into a fast which
will last three days and three nights. At the end of the third
day you must recite the Mincha prayers wearing talith and
tefillin. After that you must recite the verse: ‘Flaming angels
surround the Holy One, blessed be He!’ After that you must
invoke the Angel Sandalfon by means of cabalistic formulae.
Thereupon, he and his angel hosts will appear immediately.
“Be prepared with strong spices for the coming of these
angels, so that they might revive you from the terror into
which you will fall when you perceive the holy fire and the
mighty whirlwind which will come in the wake of the Heav-
enly Host. Remember, when they appear you must fall upon
your faces and recite the verse: ‘Praised be His Name whose
glorious kingdom is forever and ever!’
“After that the mighty Angel Sandalfon will reveal himself
to you. You must then ask him what you should do in order
to drive the spirit of evil from the world.
“If you do as I bid, and provided Almighty God wills it so,
then you will be able to bring the Redemption for all the
world.”
After having blessed Rabbi Joseph and his disciples the
Prophet Elijah vanished.
And Rabbi Joseph della Reyna and his five disciples did all
that the Prophet Elijah had told them. When their fasting,
vigils, prayers and austerities were over, a terrifying tumult
arose in Heaven. The Angel Sandalfon with his host of sera-
phim swept down upon the earth amidst a whirlwind and
with a pillar of flame before them. Seeing them. Rabbi
Joseph and his disciples became faint with fear and fell upon
their faces. But they smelled the strong spices and their ener-
gies returned.
Then they cried out: “Praised be His Name whose glorious
kingdom is forever and ever!” Only then did they dare to
look upon the angels clothed in flame and splendor.
The Angel Sandalfon now spoke and his voice sounded
like the low muttering of thunder: “O sinful mortals! Where
did you get the strength and the insolence to cause such a
turmoil in all the Seven Heavens? How dare you trouble me
and the Hosts of Heaven to descend to the sinful earth? I bid
you desist from this madness!”
So great was the terror of Rabbi Joseph that he lost the
power of speech. Finally he fortified his spirit and replied,
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HEROES
“Holy Angel Sandalfon! Believe me, I have not done this for
my glory but for the glory of the Creator, blessed be His
Name, for the glory of the Holy Torah, for the glory of the
grandchildren of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob! Forgive me my
insolence, for I could not help myself.
“I could no longer look on the suffering of my people in
Exile. I could no longer stand by watching our enemies tram-
pling us underfoot in the dust. My only aim is to drive away
the impure demons who defile the world, who dim the holy
flame of our faith. I wish to return the Shekhina to the an-
cient luster it had when the Temple still stood in Jerusalem.
Let God be my witness that my intention is pure and my
course upright!
“Therefore, O Holy Angel, I beg you to help me! Show me
tne right path, teach me the right course, so that I can bring
the Messiah, the Redeemer, down on earth!”
The Angel Sandalfon was filled with compassion as he
looked upon Rabbi Joseph della Reyna.
“May God be with you until you reach your goal!” he
cried. “Rest assured that all angels in Heaven are in agree-
ment that the Messiah should come and bring the Redemp-
tion for the Jewish people who suffer in Exile. Yet I must
warn you that you have undertaken a very difficult task, for
Satan and the demons have untold power. Even we, the an-
gels, cannot vanquish them. Only if God Himself stands by
you will you be able to achieve your aim. But how can you
expect God to support you unless He believes that the right
time has come for the Messiah?
“Again I must warn you: your path is full of folly. Should
you fail you might make matters even worse, you might hand
the victory to Satan and he will become more arrogant and
do greater evil than hitherto to mankind.”
Rabbi Joseph’s heart overflowed with bitterness. Alas! Even
the mighty Angel Sandalfon would not help him!
In the meantime, the five disciples lay prostrate upon the
ground, their faces hidden in terror.
“Rise up — rise up!” cried Rabbi Joseph. “Unite with me in
prayer! Perhaps all together we will be able to soften the
hearts of the angels and they will agree to help us in our great
work.”
Once again Rabbi Joseph della Reyna pleaded with the
Angel Sandalfon, “Help me, show me the right way!”
Sadly the Angel Sandalfon replied, “If I have come to you
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131
it is because you forced me by pronouncing the Ineffable
Name, but alas, I cannot help you! I myself do not know the
means by which you can triumph over Satan and the demons.
My one duty is to guard the way along which the prayers of
the righteous mount to Heaven and to bring them before the
Throne of God. I have no power over Satan and do not
know whether I can pit my strength against his.
“However, if you are so desperately determined to achieve
your goal you must call upon the Angel Metatron and his
hosts. They have been assigned by God to prevent Satan
from growing stronger. Yet, I doubt very much whether you
will be able to bring this great angel down to you. He resides
in the Seventh Heaven right next to the Heavenly Throne.
Therefore, not every prayer can penetrate up to him. Even
should he hear you, I doubt whether you and your disciples
will be able to survive the terror of his presence. Know that
he appears as a pillar of fire and that his face is more daz-
zling than the sun. Therefore, I beg of you: abandon your
plan, for it is madness!”
Still Rabbi Joseph would not submit.
“I know,” said he brokenly, “that I am weak and insignifi-
cant. I know that it is impudence on my part to dare talk
with angels and to contradict them. But I hope that the Ruler
of the World, reading my heart, will not spurn my prayer
and will aid me in the work that I have undertaken. O Angel
of the World, help me! Tell me how I can bring the Angel
Metatron down to earth.”
“Since you insist,” replied the Angel Sandalfon, “you and
your disciples must do the following: You must fast forty
more days and purify yourself twenty-one times each day in
the Sea of Galilee. You must study Cabala and say your
prayers incessantly. Both by day and by night must you
purify your thoughts. You must eat still less than you have
hitherto, and live on spices alone. After that you must recite
the Ineffable Name formed by seventy-two letters and call
upon Metatron, the Angel of this mystic name, to appear be-
fore you.”
The Angel Sandalfon then gave Rabbi Joseph and his disci-
ples his blessing, “May your spirits be strong and survive the
terror of Metatron’s presence!”
Then, followed by his host of Angels, he mounted to
Heaven in a whirlwind.
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HEROES
The stubbornness of Rabbi Joseph della Reyna aroused all
the angels in Heaven. Nothing was spoken of but his daring
attempt to bring the Messiah down to earth. The Messiah
himself was hopeful that soon he would have to descend on
his white horse to the children of man.
Even his horse began to chafe and paw, eager to be let out
of the Heavenly stable. Also, the Prophet Elijah took out his
great shofar and began to practice on it, for he would be the
one to announce the coming of the Messiah with a mighty
blast.
When Satan got wind of the news he trembled at the dan-
ger that was threatening him. At the time when all the angels
and seraphim in Heaven were rejoicing, he sat gnashing his
teeth in the bottom-most regions of the lowest Gehenna. He
then took counsel with his wife Lilith who upbraided him for
doing nothing while their very existence was being
threatened. Thereupon, Satan hurried off to press his com-
plaints before God.
“The Angels are playing me a trick!” he cried. “They wish
to make an end of me before my time has come! How, O
Lord, can Messiah come when there are so many sinners
among the Jews? As for this stubborn fool, Joseph della
Reyna, give me permission to do with him what is just.”
But God denied him his request, for the prayers that Rabbi
Joseph and his disciples had intoned, their days and nights of
fasting, their sacred reflection and austerities, stood around
them like a fortified wall. Therefore, Satan had no power
over them.
Yet Satan could not be silenced. God told him that, al-
though his arguments were just, it still lay within God’s
power to hasten the Redemption, even before the appointed
day, if He but wished it. Moreover, if the Jews possessed
such a saint as Rabbi Joseph della Reyna they were indeed
worthy of the Messiah’s quick coming.
“However,” added God, “should Joseph della Reyna stray
from righteousness by even the thickness of a hair, I will give
you the power to bring his plan to naught!”
When Rabbi Joseph della Reyna told his disciples what the
Angel Sandalfon had counselled him to do, they answered
with one voice, “We will do whatever you require of us!”
They then left Tiberias and went up to a mountain
fastness. They found a cave and made their home in it. Here
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133
they performed their austerities and vigils for forty days and
forty nights, just as the Angel Sandalfon had said. Finally,
they became released from all the tentacles of this sinful
world and reached the highest degree of sanctity and virtue.
When the forty days were over they went farther into the
wilderness and purified themselves in Lake Kishon. Then they
recited the Mincha prayers with great fervor. After that they
clasped hands and formed a mystic circle. They prayed that
God might give them the necessary strength to survive the
terror of the fiery presence of the Angel Metatron and of his
angelic host.
Finally, Rabbi Joseph pronounced the Ineffable Name of
God formed of seventy-two letters.
Thereupon, the earth became convulsed and trembled.
Lightning and thunder rent the heavens and a whirlwind
came.
Rabbi Joseph and his disciples stood firm, clasping hands
in the mystic circle. They smelled strong spices to fortify
their spirits and intoned prayers.
The Angel Metatron appeared, surrounded by his host of
angels and seraphim.
“O sinful man!” cried the angels. “O puny creature of flesh
and blood wretched as a worm! How dare you storm the
Heavens with your prayers and oblige the angels to come to
earth?”
Rabbi Joseph and his students were filled with terror. Sum-
moning up all his courage, Rabbi Joseph spoke at last.
“Holy angels, help me! Give me the strength to talk to
you!”
The Angel Metatron then drew near and touched Rabbi
Joseph, whereupon he lost all fear and spoke. “Believe me, I
have no evil intention. All I want is to bring the Messiah in
order to end the Exile of the Jewish people. Therefore, teach
me how to vanquish Satan and his evil power.”
The Angel Metatron became stem.
“Foolish man!” he cried. “All your efforts are in vain!
Know that Satan is all powerful. He is fortified by a great
wall of the sins of the Jewish people. How can you expect to
break through where others have failed? Only when God
wills that the Messiah should come will He come. Therefore,
abandon your plan!”
But Rabbi Joseph was stubborn.
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HEROES
Almighty God has helped me thus far and I’ve remained
among the living,” he said. “Therefore, I will not turn back!”
When the Angel Metatron saw that Rabbi Joseph could not
be moved in his determination he was filled with compassion
for him. Hie then advised him what to do.
He revealed to him all the mystic formulae, all the incanta-
tions and the Ineffable Name. With their aid, he said, Rabbi
Joseph would succeed in capturing Satan and Lilith and thus
drive all evil from the world. With that accomplished, the
Messiah would surely come!
He also had him engrave on a metal plate the Ineffable
Name and taught him how to use it. He warned him es-
pecially to guard himself against the weakness of pity towards
evil after he had made captive Satan and Lilith. Under no
circumstance was he to give them any food or any spices to
smell. If he did, all his efforts would be wasted. He would
thus only expose himself to the revenge of Satan.
When the Angel Metatron and his host had departed,
Rabbi Joseph and his disciples began making preparations for
their battle with the Evil One.
Rabbi Joseph della Reyna and his five disciples went up on
Mount Sheir. On the way they met many wild dogs. These,
they very well knew, were demons that Satan had sent in or-
der to confuse and frighten them. But Rabbi Joseph pro-
nounced an incantation and they vanished.
As they continued on their way they came to a snow-
capped mountain that seemed to pierce the very Heavens.
They then pronounced mystic formulae that the angels had
taught them and the mountain vanished.
On the third day they came to a turbulent sea. Here too
they recited mystic formulae and the ocean dried up before
their very eyes.
Further on they found their way obstructed by an iron wall
which reached to the sky. Behind it stood Satan, lying in wait
for them. Rabbi Joseph took a knife on which was engraved
one of the mystic names of God and with it he ripped the
wall asunder.
They then ascended a towering mountain from the top of
which they heard the loud barking of dogs. When they finally
reached the summit Rabbi Joseph saw a hut. As he tried to
enter, two frightfully big dogs sprang at his throat. Rabbi
Joseph recognized them to be Satan and Lilith, so he quickly
MIRACLES
135
raised before them the metal plate with the Ineffable Name
engraved upon it. Thereupon, they lost their evil power and
slunk away.
The five disciples then bound the dogs with ropes on which
were tied little metal amulets engraved with the mystic names
of God. Immediately, the dogs were transformed. They took
on the appearance of humans except that they had wings and
fiery eyes.
“Do give us something to eat,” they whined.
But Rabbi Joseph recalled the Angel Metatron’s warning
against falling prey to the weakness of pity towards evil. So
he gave them no food.
Rabbi Joseph and his disciples were now filled with in-
describable bliss. At last, at last, they had succeeded in cap-
turing Satan and Lilith! Now they would be able to bring
Messiah down to earth!
“Let us hurry!” impatiently cried Rabbi Joseph della
Reyna to his disciples. “We are already nearing our goal!
Soon the Gates of Heaven will open wide for us and the
Holy Messiah will come forth to welcome us!”
All this time Satan and Lilith were moaning in heartbreak-
ing voices, “Help us! Give us something to eat! We’re dying
of hunger!”
Still Rabbi Joseph della Reyna hardened his heart against
them.
When they saw that they could not swerve him Satan and
Lilith asked wheedlingly, “At least give us a smell of your
spices or we perish!”
Now Rabbi Joseph was a compassionate man. He could
not endure the sight of suffering in man or beast. Having tri-
umphed over Satan and Lilith he thought he could now safely
show a small measure of magnanimity toward them. He
therefore gave them some of the strong spices to smell.
Immediately, tongues of searing flame shot from their nos-
trils. All their former strength returned to them. They tore
away their bonds and summoned to their aid hosts of shriek-
ing demons and devils.
Two of the disciples instantly died of terror. Two of them
went out of their minds and wandered away. Only Rabbi
Joseph and one disciple remained.
A terrible wailing was now heard in Heaven and the angels
went into mourning. The Messiah wept and led his white
horse back into its Heavenly stall. Also the Prophet Elijah
136
HEROES
grieved and hid the great shofar of the Redemption. Then the
voice of the Almighty sounded:
“Pay heed, O Joseph della Reyna! No human has the
power to end the Exile! I alone, God, will hasten the Re-
demption of the Jewish people when the right time comes!”
The Messiah Came to Town
Periodically Rabbi Elijah, the Vilna Gaon, wished to do
penance. So he went into “exile,” wandered forth on foot
disguised as a poor man. He carried a stick and wore the tra-
ditional beggar’s sack so that no one knew who he was.
Once, when his period of “exile” was completed, Rabbi
Elijah turned his face toward Vilna again. Footsore and
weary he trudged the road back. At last a peasant, who was
passing by in his wagon, gave him a lift to town. The peasant
was slightly drunk and drowsy.
“Here, Jew, drive!” he said.
Rabbi Elijah took the reins and drove into Vilna while the
peasant lay down to sleep in the back of the wagon.
As he drove through the streets the Jews recognized him.
Everyone was filled with wonder, for they had never seen the
likes of it since the day they were bom. There, in the driver’s
seat and dressed in tatters like the commonest beggar, sat the
“Crown of Israel,” the greatest Jew on earth!
One Jew ran into the synagogue.
“The Messiah is coming! The Messiah is coming!” he cried
jubilantly.
The people excitedly ran out of the synagogues, out of
their shops and houses, and into the street in order to see the
wonder of wonders.
“Where is the Messiah?” they asked the man.
“See for yourself!” he cried. “There’s the Vilna Gaon! If
the Vilna Gaon in beggar’s rags is driving a wagon, who is
worthy enough to be his passenger? It can be none other than
the Messiah!”
Why the Messiah Doesn’t Come 48
Once there was a poor man who, may God spare us all a
like fate, did not have a groschen to his soul. Nevertheless, he
sat night and day studying the Torah with pure intention, as
God has bidden.
One Friday morning, when his wife discovered that they
MIRACLES
137
did not have the wherewithal to buy the necessities for cele-
brating the Holy Sabbath, she drove him out of the house.
“Go to the marketplace!” she cried bitterly. “Look
around — maybe you can earn a few kopeks so that the chil-
dren and I will not have to starve on God’s holy day!”
Lost in gloomy thoughts the poor man made his way to the
marketplace.
“Alas!” he mused, “what a sad fate is mine! Instead of de-
voting my time to the study of the Torah I must now worry
about groschen and kopeks!”
As he walked with downcast eyes he suddenly heard a
voice near him say, "Sholom aleichem!”
“Aleichem sholomP’ answered he. And, looking up, he saw
an old man with a long gray beard and a wonderfully holy
face.
“Who are you?” asked the poor man, overawed.
“I’m the Messiah!” answered the old man. “I see you are
sad. Confide your trouble to me!”
And the poor man told him of his great need and of his
grief in being diverted by base cares from his study of the
Torah.
“Cease your lamentation!” said Messiah. “Let me give you
this sack — it’s a marvellous little sack! Whatever you desire
the sack will give you. All you have to do is to put your hand
into it and draw forth whatever your heart desires. The little
sack has also another virtue. Should anyone wish to hurt
you — all you have to do is to call out: ‘Swallow him, little
sack!’ And, believe me, it will do exactly as you say.”
Overjoyed, the poor man took the little sack, thanked
Messiah in a heartfelt way, and returned home to his un-
happy wife and children.
From that day on the wheel of fortune turned for him. He
thrived and he prospered and was wanting for nothing of all
the goods of the earth. He lived in honor and tranquility. He
saw his children and his children’s children grow up and
marry happily, and sorrow shunned his threshold.
Unfortunately, like most men who grow rich, he forgot the
manner in which his prosperity came to him, forgot to do
good with it, to serve his fellowmen, to feed the poor and
clothe the orphans. He even gave up his study of the Torah.
As he lay dying, he called his heirs to his bedside and said
to them, “Give me my magic little sack. It will save me from
the Angel of Death.”
138
HEROES
His heirs did as he had asked them.
When the Angel of Death rose up before him, he asked,
“What is your name?”
“I will not tell you!” the dying man cried. “Leave me in
peace!”
But the Angel of Death would not leave him. Again and
again he repeated, “What is your name?”
When the dying man saw that he could not resist him any
longer, he picked up his little sack and said, “Little sack, little
sack! Swallow the Angel of Death!”
Immediately, the Angel of Death disappeared into the little
sack.
In the meantime, on the Throne of Mercy sat the Celestial
Judge impatiently waiting for the Angel of Death to arrive
with his daily catch of souls.
Angered by his tardiness, God sent the angels Gabriel and
Michael down to earth.
“Go,” said He, “and find out what’s keeping the Angel of
Death.”
When the angels came to the man they asked him, “Where
is the Angel of Death?”
He did not answer. Again and again they asked him the
question. When he saw that he could not stand up against
them any longer he picked up his little sack and cried, “Little
sack, little sack! Swallow the angel Michael!”
And lo and behold! Michael disappeared into the little
sack.
When the angel Gabriel saw this he fled and returned to
Heaven.
As Gabriel reported to God what had happened to him the
Messiah suddenly recalled how he had given the little magic
sack to a poor man he had once met.
“Lord,” said the Messiah to God, “give me leave to go
down and find this man.”
So the Messiah descended to earth and went in search of
the man. When he found him he asked him sternly, “What is
the meaning of your conduct? Explain yourself!”
“You too!” cried the man angrily, not recognizing the
Messiah. How many more of you will come down to brow-
beat me?”
“Why, don’t you know who I am?” began the Messiah.
But before even he could finish what he had begun to say.
MIRACLES 139
the man picked up his magic little sack and cried, “Little
sack, little sack! Swallow this one too!”
And the Messiah also disappeared into the little sack.
And now, dear friends, do you want to know why the
Messiah doesn’t come?
Skeptics and Scoffers
Introduction
The awed belief in the supernatural powers of the cabalists and
in the wonder-working feats of the Hasidic Tzaddikim was far
from being unanimous among the Jewish masses. These mystics
always found a determined and powerful opposition arrayed
against them in the Talmudic rationalists. The Hasidim especially
had to contend with a dangerous enemy — one that fought with
the devastating weapon of ridicule. The opponents of the Hasidim
were known as Misnagdim. They were a gay set of rogues who
created an entire humorous literature with their sly, tongue-in-
the-cheek scoffing against the wonder-working rabbis, and most
of all against their gullible, worshipful disciples. These quips and
jokes received wide currency among the people and added a great
deal to the merriment of Jewish community life which stood so
badly in need of diversion. And if any proof is needed of the ex-
traordinary capacity Jews have for telling jokes at their own ex-
pense it is furnished by the novel fact that these anti -Hasidic
jokes were almost as popular among the Hasidim themselves as
among the Misnagdim. Of course, the Hasidim found a con-
venient way of avoiding embarrassment. They always assumed
that the scoffing was being directed against fanatics, to which
category of Hasidim they themselves, of course, did not belong!
N.A.
Conclusive Proof
A wonder-working rabbi, accompanied by his disciples,
once went on a journey. Late at night he came to a wayside
inn. He knocked on the door and asked to be let in, but the
innkeeper refused to get out of bed as it was a. cold night.
Full of holy wrath, the rabbi cried, “Wicked fellow! I hereby
decree that your inn shall burn down tomorrow!”
Frightened out of his wits, the innkeeper got out of bed
and let the rabbi and his disciples in. He treated them with
140
HEROES
the utmost hospitality and set a feast before them. Mollified
by the innkeeper’s eagerness to please, the rabbi cried, “I now
decree that your house shall not bum down tomorrow!”
And, miracles and wonders! It happened exactly as the
rabbi said! The rabbi’s disciples themselves witnessed this mira-
cle. They saw with their own eyes that the inn did not bum
down the next day!
The Right Kind of Judge
A villager once came to see the rabbi in a big town and
said to him, “Rabbi, I come from a nearby village. I want to
bring a lawsuit against God. My reason for it is this. I had a
wife and, in addition, ten thousand rubles. What did God do?
First he took away the ten thousand rubles and, afterwards,
my wife too. I ask you: what would it have mattered to God
if He had done the reverse? Had He taken away my wife first
I would have remained a widower with ten thousand rubles.
In that case it would have been easy for me to have married
a woman with a ten thousand ruble dowry. After that, had
God wanted to take from me the ten thousand rubles, I still
would have had left a wife and ten thousand rubles.”
“Tell me, my friend,” asked the rabbi a bit puzzled at all
this, “why did you come to me with your suit and not to the
rabbi in your village?”
“I’ll be perfectly frank with you,” replied the villager. “I
couldn’t trust such a matter to our rabbi because I know
what a God-fearing man he is and he would give Him the de-
cision. On the other hand, I know you have no fear of God
and so, at least I’ll have half a chance with you.”
Leave It to the Rabbi
A Jewish innkeeper, who held the concession from a Jew-
hating Polish nobleman, was in great despair. His landlord
treated him with savage cruelty. Whenever he couldn’t make
his annual payment he even beat him and drove his wife and
children into the wintry night. At his wit’s end, he decided to
ride to town to see the rabbi and get his counsel.
“Advise me, Rabbi,” he begged him. “Save my life! I no
longer know what to do. That Haman of a landlord is fast
driving me into my grave. I can see only one solution to my
trouble, and one only: that by your wonder-working powers
you bring about his death.”
MIRACLES
141
“Ah! That’s a very difficult thing to do, my son.” the rabbi
replied discouragingly. “Besides, you just can’t go and kill a
man as easily as all that! After all, aren’t Jews called ‘Sons of
the Compassionate’? Even your landlord is a human being,
just like you and me.”
He a human being?” snorted the petitioner, with indigna-
tion. He’s a torturer, Rabbi, a wild beast! He’d as soon kill
me as take a pinch of snuff.”
The rabbi agreed with a sigh and retired into his private
study to hold communion with God. When he emerged, he
said to the innkeeper, “Go home now! Your persecutor is
dead.”
Rejoicing greatly over this miraculous piece of news, the
innkeeper started for home. But on the way he was suddenly
filled with misgiving. “Was it wise of me to ask the rabbi to
bring about the death of my landlord?” he asked himself.
What will I have gained by it? When his son and heir, who
is in Paris now, hears of his father’s death he will hurry home
to take over the estate. In that case, it will be worse for me
for he is even more wicked than his father. Then it will
surely be the end of me!”
So he turned his cart around and, whipping up his horse,
returned to the rabbi.
“Rabbi!” he cried. “I shouldn’t have asked you to make the
landlord die. I’ve done wrong — a terrible wrong! If he’s as
wicked as Haman, his son is like the Angel of Death. Now
I’m sorry for the whole business!”
The rabbi thew up his hands in exasperation.
“What do you want me to do now — resurrect him?” he
asked, bitingly. Then he relented and said, “Believe me, it’s a
very difficult matter, but I’ll see what I can do.”
The rabbi again went into his private study to commune
with God. When he came out he said cheerfully to the inn-
keeper, “You may go home now — your landlord is alive
again.”
Murmuring a prayer of thanksgiving, the innkeeper climbed
into his cart and drove him home. When he got there, what
was his delight to see his landlord walking about hale and
hearty and real as life, just as if nothing at all had happened
to him!
142
Deduction
HEROES
A disciple came to his rabbi. His wife was gravely ill at
home and therefore he begged the holy man to pray for her.
“Go home and stop worrying,” the rabbi told him.
Several days later the disciple came again, lamenting tear-
fully, “Oh Rabbi, my wife is dead!”
“That cannot be,” insisted the rabbi heatedly. “I myself
tore the slaughterer’s knife from the hand of the Angel of
Death!”
“I don’t know about that, Rabbi, but my wife is dead!”
wailed the bereaved husband.
“In that case,” sighed the rabbi, “nothing else could have
happened but that the Angel of Death strangled her with his
bare hands!”
Realistic Miracles
A disciple was bragging about his wonder-working rabbi:
“When my rabbi climbs on a bench he can see with his
luminous eyes to the very ends of the earth!”
“What’s the idea of your rabbi having to get on a bench if
he can see that far?” he was asked.
“My rabbi, I’d like you to know, wants his miracles to look
realistic,” answered the disciple proudly.
A Believer's Truth
A disciple of a wonder-working rabbi once was boasting of
the supernatural feats of his master.
“Every night,” he stated, “my rabbi transforms himself into
the Prophet Elijah!”
“How do you know that?” asked a skeptic.
“Why the rabbi himself told it to me!”
“The rabbi could have told you a lie!”
“How dare you say such a thing about my rabbi!” raged
the disciple. “Do you think for one moment that a man who
can transform himself into the Prophet Elijah every night has
the need to tell a lie?”
Miracles
Two disciples were bragging about the relative merits of their
wonder-working rabbis. One said, “Once my rabbi was trav-
MIRACLES
143
elling on the road when suddenly the sky became overcast. It
began to thunder and to lighten and a heavy rain fell — a real
deluge. What does my rabbi do? He lifts up his eyes to
Heaven, spreads out his hands in prayer and immediately a
miracle happens! To the right, darkness and a downpour — to
the left, darkness and a downpour. But in the middle, a clear
sky and the sun shining!”
“Call that a miracle?” sneered the other disciple. “Let me
tell you what happened to my rabbi.
“Once he was riding in a wagon to a nearby village. It was
on a Friday. He remained longer there than he had intended
and, on his way back, he found that night was falling. What
was to be done? He couldn’t very well spend the Sabbath in
the middle of the field, could he? So he lifted his eyes to
Heaven, spread out his hands to right and left, and immedi-
ately a miracle took place! To the right of him stretched the
Sabbath, to the left of him stretched the Sabbath — but in the
middle was Friday!”
The Farseeing Rabbi
The rabbi of Odessa was deep in prayer one day when, inter-
rupting himself with a wail, he announced that the rabbi of
Warsaw had just died. Accordingly, the entire Odessa congre-
gation went into mourning in his honor.
A few days later, some lews from Warsaw arrived in
Odessa. Asked for details of the sad event, they declared their
rabbi was in the best of health.
“What a spectacle your rabbi made of himself,”' one of
them said, “seeing our rabbi die in Warsaw, when as a matter
of fact our rabbi was — and still is — living!”
“What of it?” answered the undaunted disciple of Odessa.
“Isn’t it marvelous enough that our rabbi can see all the way
from Odessa to Warsaw?”
Pipe-Dreams
The holy rabbi died. All his disciples who loved him wished
to obtain a memento of him. One of the disciples had fixed
his heart upon the rabbi’s long-stem pipe with the beautifully
painted porcelain bowl.
“It will cost you a hundred rubles,” the rabbi’s wife told
him.
“It’s a lot of money for me,” said the disciple with some
144
HEROES
hesitation. “However, let me try it out and we’ll see about it
later.”
So the rabbi’s wife gave him the pipe and he lit it.
And what do you suppose happened?
No sooner had he taken the first draw when it seemed to
him as if all the seven gates of Heaven opened wide for him
and he saw what even the prophet Ezekiel hadn’t seen there!
With trembling hands he counted out the hundred rubles
and, overjoyed, hastened home with his purchase.
No sooner did he arrive home than he eagerly lit the pipe
once more. He gave one mighty draw.
And what do you suppose happened?
Nothing!
Nothing?
Yes, nothing!
Pell-mell the disciple ran off with his pipe to see the new
rabbi. He blurted out to him the whole story in a breathless
voice.
“My son,” said the new rabbi, smiling into his beard, “the
whole matter is as clear as day. When the pipe still belonged
to the rabbi, and you smoked it, you saw just what the rabbi
saw when he smoked it. But, no sooner did it become yours
when it turned into just a plain, everyday pipe, and you saw
what you always see!”
The Gulden Test
An atheist once came to see a wonder-working rabbi.
“Sholom aleichem. Rabbi,” said the atheist.
"Aleichem sholom,” answered the rabbi.
The atheist took a gulden and handed it to him. The rabbi
pocketed it without a word.
“No doubt you’ve come to see me about something,” he
said. “Maybe your wife is childless and you want me to pray
for her?”
“No, Rabbi, I’m not married,” replied the atheist.
Thereupon, he gave the rabbi another gulden. Again the
rabbi pocketed the gulden without a word.
“But there must be something you wish to ask me,” he
said. “Possibly you’ve committed a sin and you’d like me to
intercede with God for you.”
“No, Rabbi, I don’t know of any sin I’ve committed,” re-
plied the atheist.
MIRACLES 145
And again he gave the rabbi a gulden and again the rabbi
pocketed it without a word.
“Maybe business is bad and you want me to bless you?”
asked the rabbi, hopefully.
“No, Rabbi, this has been a prosperous year for me,” re-
plied the atheist.
Once more the atheist gave him a gulden.
“What do you want of me, anyway?” asked the rabbi, a
little perplexed.
“Nothing, just nothing,” replied the atheist. “I merely
wished to see how long a man can go on taking money for
nothing!”
A Fool Asks Too Many Questions
On the fast day of Tisha Ba’Ab a sick Jew went to see the
rabbi in order to get his permission to eat, for he was afraid
his health would suffer if he didn’t. But, as he entered the
rabbi’s house, he was struck dumb with amazement when he
saw the rabbi enjoying a hearty lunch.
“Rabbi,” he faltered, not at all sure of himself, “I’m a sick
man — do I have to fast today?”
“What a question!” replied the rabbi, his mouth full of
roast duck. “Of course you do!”
For a moment the petitioner stood in bewilderment, not
knowing whether he was coming or going. Finally, he scraped
up sufficient courage to ask, “Pardon my impertinence.
Rabbi, but how can you order me to fast when you yourself
are eating?”
“I wasn’t fool enough to ask the rabbi,” replied the rabbi
with a grin and went on with his lunch.
PART THREE
\*/
The Human Comedy
Introduction
There is a saying in the Talmud: “You may know a man by
three things — by his wine-cup, by his anger, and by his purse.
Some say: also by his laughter.” The folk-philosophy of Jewish
humor is revealingly expressed in many sayings. For instance,
there is the optimistic counsel in Yiddish: “Does your heart ache?
Laugh it off!” Among the sectarian Hasidim, for whom laughter
and other modes of conviviality were considered forms of prayer,
the telling of jokes was held in great esteem. “The Rebbe has or-
dered everybody to be merry!” is a well-known Hasidic saying.
The same idea underlies the following anecdote:
The famous Rabbi Zevi Elimelech of Dinov had a son, Dovidl,
who was himself a Hasidic rabbi and had many ardent disciples.
On every Sabbath and also on Holy Days, Rabbi Dovidl refrained
from the time-honored custom of expounding the Torah as he sat
in the midst of his disciples. Instead, he diverted them with merry
tales and jokes, and everybody, even the graybeards, would laugh
heartily.
Once, Rabbi Yichezkel Halberstam was paying him a visit, and
he was amazed at Rabbi Dovidl’s odd carryings-on.
“Who ever heard,” he began indignantly, “that a tzaddik and
his disciples should behave in such an outrageous way? A fine
thing indeed to celebrate God’s Sabbath with nonsense, funny sto-
ries and jests! Really, Rabbi Dovidl, you ought to feel ashamed
of yourself! Come now — expound a bit of Torah for us!”
Torah! exclaimed Rabbi Dovidl. “And what do you suppose
I’ve been expounding all this time? Believe me, Rabbi, there’s
God’s holy truth in all stories and jests!”
The average Jew cannot carry on a conversation without trying
to illuminate it with a story or joke. In fact, the need for this is
sometimes too compulsive. It has even given rise to a Jewish wit-
ticism in paraphrase of its Talmudic original: “Who is a hero?
He who suppresses the urge to tell a joke.”
. Jfuws are skillful at joke-making because they are also virtuosi
art of. pathos. They have been tempered by necessity to
nif passionately with gaiety as well as with sober earnest-
f ' T1"8 dua! opacity for weeping and laughing at the same
hTou/hZ W»ICK T,' the Yiddish exPression» “laughter
ough tears, has had its origin in the chaos of life. The har-
mony of light and shadow is always at work; the same experi-
148
INTRODUCTION
149
ences which have made the Jew realistic and thoughtful have also
exposed to his ironic eye the foolishness and incongruities of the
Human Comedy. It is one of the wholesome defense mechanisms
by which he is enabled to keep a balanced outlook.
Like every thoughtful tragedian, from Dionysus down, he has
taught himself how to laugh. Perhaps most important of all, he
has learned how to laugh at himself. This has made it easier for
him to take himself and his troubles less seriously and thus help
remove the sting from an unjust fate. Gentiles too have recog-
nized this talent of sophisticated irony in the Jew. In discussing
the humor of Max Beerbohm, James Gibbons Huneker remarked:
“. . . he has that delightful ironic touch which is Hebraic. It
abounds in Hebraic literature.”
Jewish jokes and witticisms, as those in this compilation will
bear out, are not just “fun-loving” and laugh-provoking; they are
frequently bitten with the acid of satire, and are permeated by a
philosophy of gentle ruefulness which is a commentary on the
limitations inherent in life and mankind. We find these same ele-
ments in Don Quixote and Sancho Panza and in Sholom Alei-
chem’s droll but tragic Tevye and Menachem Mendel.
The psychologic trait of self-irony in Jews, for which Heine
was celebrated, led Freud to remark in Wit and Its Relation to
the Unconscious: “This determination of self-criticism may make
clear why it is that a number of the most excellent jokes . . .
should have sprung into existence from the soil of Jewish na-
tional life. There are stories which were invented by Jews them-
selves and which are directed by Jewish peculiarities ... I do
not know whether one often finds a people that makes so merry
unreservedly over its own shortcomings.”
One outstanding feature of Jewish humor is its preoccupation
with characterization and its relative unconcern with mechanical
word-play. Human beings are not viewed en masse by the Jewish
folk-mind in jokes and tales but are highly individualized, probed
into psychologically and rounded out with all their peculiarities
and foibles. By this means they cease being just amusing manni-
kins but become instinct with life. Everybody is thus able to recog-
nize his own common humanity with theirs. Probably no other
folklore can parade such a large variety of distinctive humorous
characters as the Jewish.
Jewish humor is seldom savage or cruel, but genial, tongue-in-
cheek and philosophic. To be sure, it holds up to ridicule stupid-
ity, boorishness, avarice, hypocrisy and humbug. It gleefully
exposes smug ignorance and the hollow pride of caste. Yet it is
rarely marked by self-righteousness. By and large it reveals a
tolerance of human frailties.
150
INTRODUCTION
Certainly not all Jewish jokes are funny. As with all humor,
they require a critical and selective approach. A large body of
so-called “Jewish dialect jokes” are not Jewish at all, but the con-
fections of anti-Semites who delight in ridiculing and slandering
the Jews. About this type of joke Freud has said: “The Jewish
jokes made up by non-Jews are nearly all brutal buffooneries in
which the wit is spoiled by the fact that the Jew appears as a
comic figure to a stranger. The Jewish jokes which originate with
Jews admit this, but they know their merits as well as their real
shortcomings.”
The overtones of satire, irony and quip we hear even in the
Old Testament. For example, there is the gay mockery of the
Prophet Elijah as he listens to the idol-worshipping soothsayers of
Baal, invoking their god morning, noon and night: “O Baal, hear
us!” To this the rational-minded Elijah remarks tauntingly: “Cry
ye louder, for he is a god; he is perhaps talking or walking, or
he is on a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth and must be
awaked.”
We also find satire and irony in the Prophets, especially in the
writings of Amos and Isaiah. With matchless skill they lay bare
the weaknesses and the follies of their contemporaries. They sati-
rize the hypocrite, the miser, the skinflint, the profligate, the co-
quette, the self-satisfied and the self-righteous. It is from this acid
portraiture that much of Jewish folklore found its inspiration and
themes. The fables, parables, anecdotes and sayings in the Talmud
and Midrash, as the reader of this book will find out for himself,
were rich in those very characteristics with which we associate
Jewish humor today.
Laughter is a universal bond that draws all men closer. Jewish
humor contains every variety of laughter: bitter and sweet and
also bitter-sweet laughter; ironic, scornful and rapier-like laugh-
ter; gentle, world-weary laughter; tongue-in-cheek, skeptical and
wry laughter; wise laughter turned deprecatingly against oneself.
And not least, the turbulent and lusty laughter of the earth
earthy, the infectious belly-laughter which shakes body, minH and
emotions — an affirmation of the will-to-joy.
The liveliness and the many-sidedness of Jewish humor make it
possible for everyone to find in it that which will suit his taste. It
is a treasury in which lies stored up three thousand years of a
people’s laughter. Its variety recalls the words of Bar-Hebraeus,
the Thirteenth Century Syrian-Jewish folklorist, in his introduc-
tion to his Laughable Stories: “And let this book be a devoted
friend to the reader, whether he be Muslim, or Jew, or Aramean,
or a man belonging to a foreign country and nation. And let the
man who is learned, I mean to say the man who hath a bright
understanding, and the man that babbleth conceitedly even
INTRODUCTION
151
though he drive everyone mad, and also every other man, choose
hat is best for himself. And let each pluck the flowers that
please him In this way the book will succeed in bringing to-
gether the things which are alike, each to the other ”
N.A.
1
Droll Characters
SCHNORRERS AND BEGGARS
Introduction
It was but inevitable that the widespread poverty among the
Jews of Europe should have given rise to a class of beggars and
panhandlers. They possessed all the traits usually associated with
their type, and practiced the proverbial skulduggery of beggars
among all peoples. There were lynx-eyed “blind” men, “mutes”
who were eloquent with abuse, fleetfooted “cripples” and “dying”
nebiches with the appetite of a healthy horse. There are innumer-
able stories about beggars in Jewish folklore which merrily
describe their duplicities in obtaining alms.
Apart from them was a certain type of beggar who stood en-
tirely in a class by himself. This was the schnorrer. Although he
had his counterpart among other peoples since he was the prod-
uct of the same material necessity, nevertheless, he was cast in a
distinctive mold. It might be well to point out that the psycholo-
gic makeup of the schnorrer, or for that matter of any other
Jewish type, was not due to anything innately peculiar to the
character of the Jewish people, but was due rather to the peculiar
conditions with which Jewish life was burdened for so many cen-
turies.
What were the characteristics of the schnorrer? He disdained to
stretch out his hand for alms like an ordinary beggar. He did not
solicit aid — he demanded it. In fact, he considered it his divine
right. Unlike the whining, obsequious beggar, he recoiled from
demeaning himself, this by no means from the compunctions of a
sensitive soul, but from sheer arrogance and vanity. Since he was
obliged to live by his wits he, understandably enough, developed
all the facile improvisations of an adventurer. To reach his objec-
tive, he considered all means fair. Tact and self-restraint were not
his strong points; they would only prove practical stumbling-
blocks to the practice of his “profession.” Next to his adroitness
152
DROLL CHARACTERS 153
in fleecing the philanthropic sheep was his chutzpah, his unmiti-
gated impudence. He would terrorize his prey by the sheer daring
of his importunities, leaving him both speechless and wilted, with
no desire to continue the unequal combat.
Schnorring was no mean art. Duplicity and chutzpah were not
enough; one also had to be trigger-intelligent, imaginative, per-
suasive in short, a salesman to the gullible of one’s crying pov-
erty. Many men of this type were even learned; for
Torah-scholarship was another dart in the quiver of schnorring
persuasiveness. It often required the superficial glitter and respect-
ability of the schnorrer’s Torah-learning to make a kind-hearted
Jew, steeped in the bookish traditions of his people, feel that it
was a privilege to be mulcted.
It was with first-hand knowledge of this type of rogue that Is-
rael Zangwill created his literary tour-de-force, The King of
Schnorrer. When the smug patron of the story, Joseph Grobstock,
complains plaintively to the “King of the Schnorrers”: “. . . have
I not given freely of my hard-earned gold?” the implacable schnor-
rer retorts scornfully: “For your own diversion! But what says
the Midrash? ‘There is a wheel rolling in the world — not he who
is rich today is rich tomorrow, but this one He brings up and this
one He brings down, as is said in the seventy-fifth Psalm. There-
fore lift not up your horn on high, nor speak with a stiff neck.’ ”
xi ano^er talent a successful schnorrer had to possess.
He had to be good at repartee, at telling jokes, at proving agree-
ably diverting to his rich “client.” This helped him greatly in
maneuvering with lightning-fast timing. Imperceptibly he would
spm a spider-web around the unwary rich fly who, like Joseph
Grobstock, found it hard to disentangle himself.
, . *ke sheer originality of the schnorrer' s stratagems, and
his lively wit during the course of their execution, would mollify
his victim after he had caught his breath. If the latter had a sense
"e would feel amply rewarded for the fleecing.
While morose rogues were given a wide berth, gay rogues
such as talented schnorrers— were even welcomed by some.
Schnorrer stories abound by the hundreds in Jewish folklore. They
are invariably gay with impudent mirth and have brought enor-
mous diversion to the folk.
NA
The King of Schnorrers1
In the days when Lord George Gordon became a Jew, and
was suspected of insanity; when, out of respect for the
prophecies, England denied her Jews every civic right except
154
THE HUMAN COMEDY
that of paying taxes; when the Gentleman’s Magazine had ill
words for the infidel alien; when Jewish marriages were in-
valid and bequests for Hebrew colleges void; when a prophet
prophesying Primrose Day would have been set in the stocks,
though Pitt inclined his private ear to Benjamin Goldsmid’s
views on the foreign loans — in those days, when Tevele Schiff
was Rabbi in Israel, and Dr. de Falk, the Master of the Te-
tragrammaton, saint and Cabbalistic conjuror, flourished in
Wellclose Square, and the composer of ‘The Death of Nel-
son” was a choirboy in the Great Synagogue; Joseph Grob-
stock, pillar of the same, emerged one afternoon into the
spring sunshine at the fag-end of the departing stream of
worshippers. In his hand was a large canvas bag, and in his
eyes a twinkle.
There had been a special service of prayer and thanksgiv-
ing for the happy restoration of his Majesty’s health, and the
cantor had interceded tunefully with Providence on behalf of
Royal George and “our most amiable Queen, Charlotte.” The
congregation was large and fashionable — far more so than
when only a heavenly sovereign was concerned — and so the
courtyard was thronged with a string of Schnorrers (beg-
gars), awaiting the exit of the audience, much as the vesti-
bule of the opera-house is lined by footmen.
They were a motley crew, with tangled beards and long
hair that fell in curls, if not the curls of the period; but the
gabardines of the German Ghettoes had been in most cases
exchanged for the knee-breeches and many-buttoned jacket of
the Londoner. When the clothes one has brought from the
Continent wear out, one must needs adopt the attire of one’s
superiors, or be reduced to buying. Many bore staves, and
had their loins girded up with coloured handkerchiefs, as
though ready at any moment to return from the Captivity.
Their woebegone air was achieved almost entirely by not
washing — it owed little to nature, to adventitious aids in the
shape of deformities. The merest sprinkling boasted of physi-
cal afflictions, and none exposed sores like the lazars of Italy
or contortions like the cripples of Constantinople. Such crude
methods are eschewed in the fine art of schnorring. A green
shade might denote weakness of sight, but the stone-blind man
bore no braggart placard — his infirmity was an old es-
tablished concern well known to the public, and conferring
upon the proprietor a definite status in the community. He
was no anonymous atom, such as drifts blindly through
DROLL CHARACTERS 155
Christendom, vagrant and apologetic. Rarest of all sights in
this pageantry of Jewish pauperdom was the hollow trouser-
leg or the empty sleeve, or the wooden limb fulfilling either
and pushing out a proclamatory peg.
When the pack of Schnorrers caught sigh of Joseph Grob-
stock, they fell upon him full-cry, blessing him. He, nothing
surprised, brushed pompously through the benedictions,
though the twinkle in his eye became a roguish gleam. Out-
side the iron gates, where the throng was thickest, and where
some elegant chariots that had brought worshippers from dis-
tant Hackney were preparing to start, he came to a standstill,
surrounded by clamouring Schnorrers, and dipped his hand
slowly and ceremoniously into the bag. There was a moment
of breathless expectation among the beggars, and Joseph
Grobstock had a moment of exquisite consciousness of im-
portance, as he stood there swelling in the sunshine. There
was no middle class to speak of in the eighteenth-century
Jewry; the world was divided into rich and poor, so that ev-
eryone knew his station. Joseph Grobstock was satisfied with
that in which it had pleased God to place him. He was a
jovial, heavy-jowled creature, whose clean-shaven chin was
doubling, and he was habited like a person of the first respect-
ability in a beautiful blue body-coat with a row of big yellow
buttons. The frilled shirt front, high collar of the very newest
fashion, and copious white neckerchief showed off the massive
fleshiness of the red throat. His hat was of the Quaker pat-
tern, and his head did not fail of the periwig and the pigtail,
the latter being heretical in name only.
What Joseph Grobstock drew from the bag was a small
white-paper packet, and his sense of humour led him to place
it in the hand furthest from his nose; for it was a broad hu-
mour, not a subtle. It enabled him to extract pleasure from
seeing a fellow-mortal’s hat rollick in the wind, but did little
to alleviate the chase for his own. His jokes clapped you on
the back, they did not tickle delicately.
Such was the man who now became the complacent cyno-
sure of all eyes, even of those that had no appeal in them, as
soon as the principle of his eleemosynary operations had bro-
ken on the crowd. The first Schnorrer, feverishly tearing open
his package, had found a florin, and, as by electricity, all ex-
cept the blind beggar were aware that Joseph Grobstock was
distributing florins. The distributor partook of the general
consciousness, and his lips twitched. Silently he dipped again
156
THE HUMAN COMEDY
into the bag, and, selecting the hand nearest, put a second
white package into it. A wave of joy brightened the grimy
face, to change instantly to one of horror.
“You have made a mistake — you have given me a penny!”
cried the beggar.
“Keep it for your honesty,” replied Joseph Grobstock im-
perturbably, and affected not to enjoy the laughter of the rest
The third mendicant ceased laughing when he discovered that
fold on fold of paper sheltered a tiny sixpence. It was now
obvious that the great man was distributing prize-packets, and
the excitement of the piebald crowd grew momently. Grab-
stock went on dipping, lynx-eyed against second applications.
One of the few pieces of gold in the lucky-bag fell to the soli-
tary lame man, who danced in his joy on his sound leg, while
the poor blind man pocketed his half-penny, unconscious of
ill-fortune, and merely wondering why the coin came swathed
in paper.
By this time Grobstock could control his face no longer,
and the last episodes of the lottery were played to the accom-
paniment of a broad grin. Keen and complex was his enjoy-
ment. There was not only the general surprise at this novel
feat of alms; there were the special surprises of detail written
on face after face, as it flashed or fell or frowned in congru-
ity with the contents of the envelope, and for undercurrent a
delicious hubbub of interjections and benedictions, a
stretching and withdrawing of palms, and a swift shifting of
figures, that made the scene a farrago of excitements. So that
the broad grin was one of gratification as well as of amuse-
ment, and part of the gratification sprang from a real kind-
liness of heart — for Grobstock was an easy-going man with
whom the world had gone easy. The Schnorrers were ex-
hausted before the packets, but the philanthropist was in no
anxiety to be rid of the remnant. Closing the mouth of the
considerably lightened bag and clutching it tightly by the
throat, and recomposing his face to gravity, he moved slowly
down the street like a stately treasure-ship flecked by the sun-
light. His way led towards Goodman Fields, where his man-
sion was situated, and he knew that the fine weather would
bring out Schnorrers enough. And, indeed, he had not gone
many paces before he met a figure he did not remember hav-
ing seen before.
Leaning against a post at the head of the narrow passage
which led to Bevis Marks was a tall, black-bearded, turbaned
DROLL CHARACTERS
157
personage, a first glance at whom showed him of the true
tribe. Mechanically Joseph Grobstock’s hand went to the
lucky-bag, and he drew out a neatly-folded packet and ten-
dered it to the stranger.
The stranger received the gift graciously, and opened it
gravely, the philanthropist loitering awkwardly to mark the
issue. Suddenly the dark face became a thunder-cloud, the
eyes flashed lightning.
“An evil spirit in your ancestors’ bones!” hissed the
stranger, from between his flashing teeth. “Did you come
here to insult me?”
“Pardon, a thousand pardons!” stammered the magnate,
wholly taken aback. “I fancied you were a — a — a — poor
man.”
“And, therefore, you came to insult me!”
No, no, I thought to help you,” murmured Grobstock,
turning from red to scarlet. Was it possible he had foisted his
charity upon an undeserving millionaire? No! Through all the
clouds of his own confusion and the recipient’s anger, the fig-
ure of a Schnorrer loomed too plain for mistake. None but a
Schnorrer would wear a home-made turban, issue of a black
cap crossed with a white kerchief; none but a Schnorrer
would unbutton the first nine buttons of his waistcoat, or, if
this relaxation were due to the warmth of the weather, coun-
teract it by wearing an over-garment, especially one as heavy
as a blanket, with buttons the size of compasses and flaps
reaching nearly to his shoe-buckles, even though its length
were only congruous with that of his undercoat, which al-
ready reached the bottoms of his knee-breeches. Finally, who
but a Schnorrer would wear this overcoat cloak-wise, with
dangling sleeves, full of armless suggestion from a side view?
Quite apart from the shabbiness of the snuff-coloured fabric,
it was amply evident that the wearer did not dress by rule or
measure. Yet the disproportions of his attire did but enhance
the picturesqueness of a personality that would be striking
even in a bath, though it was not likely to be seen there. The
beard was jet black, sweeping and unkempt, and ran up his
cheeks to meet the raven hair, so that the vivid face was
framed in black; it was a long, tapering face with sanguine lips
gleaming at the heart of a black bush; the eyes were large and
lambent, set in deep sockets under black arching eyebrows;
the nose was long and Coptic; the brow low but broad, with
158
THE HUMAN COMEDY
straggling wisps of hair protruding from beneath the turban.
His right hand grasped a plain ashen staff.
Worthy Joseph Grobstock found the figure of the mendi-
cant only too impressive; he shrank uneasily before the indig-
nant eyes.
“I mean to help you,” he repeated.
“And this is how one helps a brother in Israel?” said the
Schnorrer, throwing the paper contemptuously into the phi-
lanthropist’s face. It struck him on the bridge of the nose, but
impinged so mildly that he felt at once what was the matter.
The packet was empty — the Schnorrer had drawn a blank;
the only one the good-natured man had put into the bag.
The Schnorrer1 s audacity sobered Joseph Grobstock com-
pletely; it might have angered him to chastise the fellow, but
it did not. His better nature prevailed; he began to feel
shamefaced, fumbled sheepishly in his pocket for a crown;
then hesitated, as fearing this peace-offering would not alto-
gether suffice with so rare a spirit, and that he owed the
stranger more than silver — an apology to wit. He proceeded
honestly to pay it, but with a maladroit manner, as one unac-
customed to the currency.
“You are an impertinent rascal,” he said, “but I daresay
you feel hurt. Let me assure you I did not know there was
nothing in the packet. I did not, indeed.”
“Then your steward has robbed me!” exclaimed the Schnor-
rer excitedly. “You let him make up the packets, and he has
stolen my money — the thief, the transgressor, thrice-cursed
who robs the poor.”
“You don’t understand,” interrupted the magnate meekly.
“I made up the packets myself.”
“Then, why do you say you did not know what was in
them? Go, you mock my misery!”
“Nay, hear me out!” urged Grobstock desperately. “In
some I placed gold, in the greater number silver, in a few
copper, in one alone — nothing. That is the one you have
drawn. It is your misfortune.”
“My misfortune!” echoed the Schnorrer scornfully. “It is
your misfortune — I did not even draw it. The Holy One,
blessed be He, has punished you for your heartless jesting
with the poor — making a sport for yourself of their misfor-
tunes, even as the Philistines sported with Samson. The good
deed you might have put to your account by a gratuity to
me, God has taken from you. He has declared you unworthy
DROLL CHARACTERS
159
of achieving righteousness through me. Go your way, mur-
derer!”
“Murderer!” repeated the philanthropist, bewildered by this
harsh view of his action.
“Yes, murderer! Stands it not in the Talmud that he who
shames another is as one who spills his blood? And have you
not put me to shame — if anyone had witnessed your almsgiv-
ing, would he not have laughed in my beard?”
The pillar of the Synagogue felt as if his paunch were
shrinking.
“But the others — ” he murmured deprecatingly. “I have
not shed their blood — have I not given freely of my hard-
earned gold?”
“For your own diversion,” retorted the Schnorrer implaca-
bly. “But what says the Midrash? There is a wheel rolling in
the world — not he who is rich to-day is rich to-morrow, but
this one He brings up, and this one He brings down, as is
said in the seventy-fifth Psalm. Therefore, lift not up your
horn on high, nor speak with a stiff neck.”
He towered above the unhappy capitalist, like an an-
cient prophet denouncing a swollen monarch. The poor man
put his hand involuntarily to his high collar as if to explain
away his apparent arrogance, but in reality because he was
not breathing easily under the Schnorrer’s attack.
“You are an uncharitable man,” he panted hotly, driven to
a line of defence he had not anticipated. “I did it not from
wantonness, but from faith in Heaven. I know well that God
sits turning a wheel — therefore I did not presume to turn it
myself. Did I not let Providence select who should have the
silver and who the gold, who the copper and who the emp-
tiness? Besides, God alone knows who really needs my as-
sistance— I have made Him my almoner; I have cast my
burden on the Lord.”
“Epicurean!” shrieked the Schnorrer. “Blasphemer! Is it
thus you would palter with the sacred texts? Do you forget
what the next verse says: ‘Bloodthirsty and deceitful men
shall not live out half their days’? Shame on you — you a
Gabbai (treasurer) of the Great Synagogue. You see I know
you, Joseph Grobstock. Has not the beadle of your
Synagogue boasted to me that you have given him a guinea
for brushing your spatterdashes? Would you think of offering
him a packet? Nay, it is the poor that are trodden on — they
whose merits are in excess of those of beadles. But the Lord
160
THE HUMAN COMEDY
will find others to take up his loans — for he who hath pity on
the poor lendeth to the Lord. You are no true son of Israel.”
The Schnorrer' s tirade was long enough to allow Grobstock
to recover his dignity and his breath.
“If you really knew me, you would know that the Lord is
considerably in my debt,” he rejoined quietly. “When next
you would discuss me, speak with the Psalms-men, not the
beadle. Never have I neglected the needy. Even now, though
you have been insolent and uncharitable, I am ready to be-
friend you if you are in want.”
“If I am in want!” repeated the Schnorrer scornfully. “Is
there anything I do not want?”
“You are married?”
“You correct me — wife and children are the only things I
do not lack.”
“No pauper does,” quoth Grobstock, with a twinkle of
restored humour.
“No,” assented the Schnorrer sternly. “The poor man has
the fear of Heaven. He obeys the Law and the Command-
ments. He marries while he is young — and his spouse is not
cursed with barrenness. It is the rich man who transgresses
the ludgment, who delays to come under the Canopy.”
“Ah! well, here is a guinea — in the name of my wife,”
broke in Grobstock laughingly. “Or stay — since you do not
brush spatterdashes — here is another.”
“In the name of my wife,” rejoined the Schnorrer with dig-
nity, “I thank you.”
“Thank me in your own name,” said Grobstock. “I mean
tell it me.”
“I am Manasseh Bueno Barzillai Azevedo da Costa,” he
answered simply.
“A Sephardi!”2 exclaimed the philanthropist.
“Is it not written on my face, even as it is written on yours
that you are a Tedesco?3 It is the first time that I have taken
gold from one of your lineage.”
“Oh, indeed!” murmured Grobstock, beginning to feel
small again.
“Yes — are we not far richer than your community? What
need have I to take the good deeds away from my own
people — they have too few opportunities for beneficence as it
is, being so many of them wealthy; brokers and West India
merchants, and — ”
DROLL CHARACTERS
161
“But I, too, am a financier, and an East India Director,”
Grobstock reminded him.
“Maybe; but your community is yet young and strug-
gling — your rich men are as the good men in Sodom for mul-
titude. You are the immigrants of yesterday — refugees from
the Ghettoes of Russia and Poland and Germany. But we, as
you are aware, have been established here for generations; in
the Peninsula our ancestors graced the courts of kings, and
controlled the purse-strings of princes; in Holland we held the
empery of trade. Ours have been the poets and scholars in
Israel. You cannot expect that we should recognise your
rabble, which prejudices us in the eyes of England. We made
the name of Jew honourable; you degrade it. You are as the
mixed multitude which came up with our forefathers out of
Egypt.”
“Nonsense!” said Grobstock sharply. “All Israel are breth-
ren.”
“Esau was the brother of Israel,” answered Manasseh sen-
tentiously. “But you will excuse me if I go a-marketing, it is
such a pleasure to handle gold.” There was a note of wistful
pathos in the latter remark which took off the edge of the
former, and touched Joseph with compunction for bandying
words with a hungry man whose loved ones were probably
starving patiently at home.
“Certainly, haste away,” he said kindly.
“I shall see you again,” said Manasseh, with a valedictory
wave of his hand, and digging his staff into the cobblestones
he journeyed forwards without bestowing a single backward
glance upon his benefactor.
Grobstock’s road took him to Petticoat Lane in the wake
of Manasseh. He had no intention of following him, but did
not see why he should change his route for fear of the Schnor-
rer, more especially as Manasseh did not look back. By this
time he had become conscious again of the bag he carried,
but he had no heart to proceed with the fun. He felt con-
science stricken, and had recourse to his pockets instead in his
progress through the narrow jostling market-street, where he
scarcely ever bought anything personally save fish and good
deeds. He was a connoisseur in both. To-day he picked up
many a good deed cheap, paying pennies for articles he did
not take away — shoe-latchets and cane-strings, barley-sugar
and butter-cakes. Suddenly, through a chink in an opaque
mass of human beings, he caught sight of a small attractive
162 the human comedy
salmon on a fishmonger’s slab. His eye glittered, his chops
watered. He elbowed his way to the vendor, whose eye
caught a corresponding gleam, and whose finger went to his
hat in respectful greeting.
“Good afternoon, Jonathan,” said Grobstock jovially. 111
take that salmon there — how much?”
“Pardon me,” said a voice in the crowd, “I am just bar-
gaining for it.”
Grobstock started. It was the voice of Manasseh.
“Stop that nonsense, da Costa,” responded the fishmonger.
“You know you won’t give me my price. It is the only one I
have left,” he added, half for the benefit, of Grobstock. “I
couldn’t let it go under a couple of guineas.”
“Here’s your money,” cried Manasseh with passionate con-
tempt, and sent two golden coins spinning 'musically upon the
slab.
In the crowd sensation, in Grobstock’s breast astonishment,
indignation, and bitterness. He was struck momentarily
dumb. His face purpled. The scales of the salmon shone like
a celestial vision that was fading from him by his own stupid-
ity.
“I’ll take that salmon, Jonathan,” he repeated, spluttering.
“Three guineas.”
“Pardon me,” repeated Manasseh, “it is too late. This is
not an auction.” He seized the fish by the tail.
Grobstock turned upon him, goaded to the point of
apoplexy. “You!” he cried. “You — you — rogue! How dare
you buy salmon!”
“Rogue yourself!” retorted Manasseh. “Would you have
me steal salmon?”
“You have stolen my money, knave, rascal!”
“Murderer! Shedder of blood! Did you not give me the
money as a free-will offering, for the good of your wife’s
soul? I call on you before all these witnesses to confess your-
self a slanderer!”
“Slanderer, indeed! I repeat, you are a knave and a jacka-
napes. You — a pauper — a beggar — with a wife and children.
How can you have the face to go and spend two guineas —
two whole guineas — all you have in the world— on a mere
luxury like salmon?”
Manasseh elevated his arched eyebrows.
“If I do not buy salmon when I have two guineas,” he an-
swered quietly, “when shall I buy salmon? As you say, it is a
DROLL CHARACTERS
163
luxury; very dear. It is only on rare occasions like this that
my means run to it.” There was a dignified pathos about the
rebuke that mollified the magnate. He felt that there was rea-
son in the beggar’s point of view — though it was a point to
which he would never himself have risen, unaided. But righ-
teous anger still simmered in him; he felt vaguely that there
was something to be said in reply, though he also felt that
even if he knew what it was, it would have to be said in a
lower key to correspond with Manasseh’s transition from the
high pitch of the opening passages. Not finding the requisite
repartee he was silent.
“In the name of my wife,” went on Manasseh, swinging
the salmon by the tail, “I ask you to clear my good name
which you have bespattered in the presence of my very
tradesmen. Again I call upon you to confess before these
witnesses that you gave me the money yourself in charity.
Come! Do you deny it?”
“No, I don’t deny it,” murmured Grobstock, unable to un-
derstand why he appeared to himself like a whipped cur, or
how what should have been a boast had been transformed
into an apology to a beggar.
m “In *6 name of my wife, I thank you,” said Manasseh.
She loves salmon, and fries with unction. And now, since
you have no further use for that bag of yours, I will relieve
you of its burden by taking my salmon home in it.” He took
the canvas bag from the limp grasp of the astonished
Tedesco, and dropped the fish in. The head protruded, sur-
veying the scene with a cold, glassy, ironical eye.
t Good afternoon all,” said the Schnorrer courteously.
One . moment, ’ called out the philanthropist, when he
found his tongue. “The bag is not empty — there are a num-
ber of packets still left in it.”
“So much the better!” said Manasseh soothingly. “You will
be saved from the temptation to continue shedding the blood
of the poor, and I shall be saved from spending all your
bounty upon salmon — an extravagance you were right to de-
plore.”
“But — but!” began Grobstock.
no buts,’ ” protested Manasseh, waving his bag dep-
recatingly. You were right. You admitted you were wrong
before; shall I be less magnanimous now? In the presence of
all these witnesses I acknowledge the justice of your rebuke. I
ought not to have wasted two guineas on one fish. It was not
164
THE HUMAN COMEDY
worth it. Come over here, and I will tell you something.” He
walked out of earshot of the bystanders, turning down a side
alley opposite the stall, and beckoned with his salmon bag.
The East India Director had no course but to obey. He would
probably have followed him in any case, to have it out with
him, but now he had a humiliating sense of being at the
Schnorrer's beck and call.
“Well, what more have you to say?” he demanded gruffly.
“I wish to save you money in future,” said the beggar in
low, confidential tones. “That Jonathan is a son of the separa-
tion! The salmon is not worth two guineas — no, on my soul!
If you had not come up I should have got it for twenty-five
shillings. Jonathan stuck on the price when he thought you
would buy. I trust you will not let me be the loser by your
arrival, and that if I should find less than seventeen shillings
in the bag you will make it up to me.”
The bewildered financier felt his grievance disappearing as
by sleight of hand.
Manasseh added winningly: “I know you are a gentleman,
capable of behaving as finely as any Sephardi.”
This handsome compliment completed the Schnorrer's vic-
tory, which was sealed by his saying, “And so I should not
like you to have it on your soul that you had done a poor
man out of a few shillings.”
Grobstock could only remark meekly: “You will find more
than seventeen shillings in the bag.”
“Ah, why were you bom a Tedesco!” cried Manasseh ecstat-
ically. “Do you know what I have a mind to do? To come
and be your Sabbath-guest! Yes, I will take supper with you
next Friday, and we will welcome the Bride — the holy Sab-
bath— together! Never before have I sat at the table of a
Tedesco — but you — you are a man after my own heart. Your
soul is a son of Spain. Next Friday at six — do not forget.”
“But — but I do not have Sabbath-guests,” faltered Grob-
stock.
“Not have Sabbath-guests! No, no, I will not believe you
are of the sons of Belial, whose table is spread only for the
rich, who do not proclaim your equality with the poor even
once a week. It is your fine nature that would hide its bene-
factions. Do not I, Manasseh Bueno Barzillai Azevedo da
Costa, have at my Sabbath-table every week Yankele ben
Yitzchok — a Pole? And if I have a Tedesco at my table, why
should I draw the line there? Why should I not permit you, a
DROLL CHARACTERS
165
Tedesco, to return the hospitality to me, a Sephardi? At six,
then! I know your house well — it is an elegant building that
does credit to your taste — do not be uneasy — I shall not fail
to be punctual. A Dios!”
This time he waved his stick fraternally, and stalked down
a turning. For an instant Grobstock stood glued to the spot,
crushed by a sense of the inevitable. Then a horrible thought
occurred to him.
Easy-going man as he was, he might put up with the visita-
tion of Manasseh. But then he had a wife, and, what was
worse, a livery servant. How could he expect a livery servant
to tolerate such a guest? He might fly from the town on Fri-
day evening, but that would necessitate troublesome explana-
tions. And Manasseh would come again the next Friday. That
was certain. Manasseh would be like grim death — his coming,
though it might be postponed, was inevitable. Oh, it was too
terrible. At all costs he must revoke the invitation. Placed be-
tween Scylla and Charybdis, between Manasseh and his man-
servant, he felt he could sooner face the former.
“Da Costa!” he called in agony. “Da Costa!”
The Schnorrer turned, and then Grobstock found he was
mistaken in imagining he preferred to face da Costa.
“You called me?” enquired the beggar.
"Ye — e — s,” faltered the East India Director, and stood
paralysed.
“What can I do for you?” said Manasseh graciously.
“Would you mind — very much — if I — if I asked you — ”
“Not to come,” was in his throat, but stuck there.
“If you asked me — ” said Manasseh encouragingly.
“To accept some of my clothes,” flashed Grobstock, with a
sudden inspiration. After all, Manasseh was a fine figure of a
man. If he could get him to doff those musty garments of his
he might almost pass him off as a prince of the blood, foreign
by his beard — at any rate he could be certain of making him
acceptable to the livery servant. He breathed freely again at
this happy solution of the situation.
“Your cast-off clothes?” asked Manasseh. Grobstock was
not sure whether the tone was supercilious or eager. He has-
tened to explain. “No, not quite that. Second-hand things I
am still wearing. My old clothes were already given away at
Passover to Simeon the Psalms-man. These are comparatively
new.”
166
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“Then I would beg you to excuse me,” said Manasseh, with
a stately wave of the bag.
“Oh, but why not?” murmured Grobstock, his blood run-
ning cold again.
“I cannot,” said Manasseh, shaking his head.
“But they will just about fit you,” pleaded the philanthro-
pist.
“That makes it all the more absurd for you to give them to
Simeon the Psalms-man,” said Manasseh sternly. “Still, since
he is your clothes-receiver, I could not think of interfering
with his office. It is not etiquette. I am surprised you should
ask me if I should mind. Of course I should mind — I should
mind very much.”
“But he is not my clothes-receiver,” protested Grobstock.
“Last Passover was the first time I gave them to him, because
my cousin, Hyman Rosenstein, who used to have them, has
died.”
“But surely he considers himself you cousin’s heir,” said
Manasseh. “He expects all your old clothes henceforth.”
“No. I gave him no such promise.”
Manasseh hesitated.
“In that case,” repeated Grobstock breathlessly.
“On condition that I am to have the appointment per-
manently, of course.”
“Of course,” echoed Grobstock eagerly.
“Because you see,” Manasseh condescended to explain, “it
hurts one’s reputation to lose a client.”
“Yes, yes, naturally,” said Grobstock soothingly. “I quite
understand.” Then, feeling himself slipping into future em-
barrassments, he added timidly, “Of course they will not al-
ways be so good as the first lot, because — ■”
“Say no more,” Manasseh interrupted reassuringly, “I will
come at once and fetch them.”
“No. I will send them,” cried Grobstock, horrified afresh.
“I could not dream of permitting it. What! Shall I put you
to all that trouble which should rightly be mine? I will go at
once — the matter shall be settled without delay, I promise
you; as it is written, ‘I made haste and delayed not!’ Follow
me!” Grobstock suppressed a groan. Here had all his man-
oeuvring landed him in a worse plight than ever. He would
have to present Manasseh to the livery servant without even
that clean face which might not unreasonably have been ex-
DROLL CHARACTERS 167
pected for the Sabbath. Despite the text quoted by the erudite
Schnorrer, he strove to put off the evil hour.
“Had you not better take the salmon home to your wife
first?” said he.
“My duty is to enable you to complete your good deed at
once. My wife is unaware of the salmon. She is in no sus-
pense.”
Even as the Schnorrer spake it flashed upon Grobstock that
Manasseh was more presentable with the salmon than without
it — in fact, that the salmon was the salvation of the situation.
When Grobstock bought fish he often hired a man to carry
home the spoil. Manasseh would have all the air of such a
loafer. Who would suspect that the fish and even the bag be-
longed to the porter, though purchased with the gentleman’s
money? Grobstock silently thanked Providence for the inge-
nious way in which it had contrived to save his self-respect.
As a mere fish-carrier Manasseh would attract no second
glance from the household; once safely in, it would be com-
paratively easy to smuggle him out, and when he did come on
Friday night it would be in the metamorphosing glories of a
body-coat, with his unspeakable undergarment turned into a
shirt and his turban knocked into a cocked hat.
They emerged into Aldgate, and then turned down Leman
Street, a fashionable quarter, and so into Great Prescott
Street. At the critical street comer Grobstock’s composure be-
gan to desert him: he took out his handsomely ornamented
snuff-box and administered to himself a mighty pinch. It did
him good, and he walked on and was well nigh arrived at his
own door when Manasseh suddenly caught him by a coat
button.
“Stand still a second,” he cried imperatively.
“What is it?” murmured Grobstock, in alarm.
“You have spilt snuff all down your coat front,” Mannas-
seh replied severely. “Hold the bag a moment while I brash it
off.”
Joseph obeyed, and Manasseh scrupulously removed every
particle with such patience that Grobstock’s was exhausted.
“Thank you,” he said at last, as politely as he could. “That
will do.”
“No, it will not do,” replied Manasseh. “I cannot have my
coat spoiled. By the time it comes to me it will be a mass of
stains if I don’t look after it.”
168
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“Oh, is that why you took so much trouble?” said Grob-
stock, with an uneasy laugh.
“Why else? Do you take me for a beadle, a brusher of
gaiters?” enquired Manasseh haughtily. “There now! that is
the cleanest I can get it. You would escape these droppings if
you held your snuff-box so — ” Manasseh gently took the
snuff-box and began to explain, walking on a few paces.
“Ah, we are at home!” he cried, breaking off the object-
lesson suddenly. He pushed open the gate, ran up the steps of
the mansion and knocked thunderously, then snuffed himself
magnificently from the bejewelled snuff-box.
Behind came Joseph Grobstock, slouching limply, and car-
rying Manasseh da Costa’s fish.
They Got the Itch
As A rich merchant of Lemberg was looking out of the win-
dow one day he saw a strange sight. A shabby-looking man
was rubbing his back against the picket-fence. It was clear,
the poor fellow had an itch. So the rich man called him into
his house and listened to his tale of woe.
“I haven’t had a bath for months,” complained the unfor-
tunate man, “I haven’t on one stitch of underwear, and I’m
so hungry I could eat nails!”
The rich man was moved to tears by the man’s desperate
plight. So he dined and wined him, gave him underwear, and,
in addition, ten kreutzer for the steambath. Then he sent him
away with God’s blessings.
The news of the rich man’s loving kindness swept through
Lemberg like wildfire. That very day two schnorrers took
their position against his picket fence and, with woeful cries,
fell to rubbing their backs vigorously against it. Attracted by
their cries, the rich man went to the window and, when he
saw what the two rogues were up to, he got very angry.
“Out of my sight, you shameless schnorrers\" he cried.
“Stop rubbing your filthy backs against my picket fence!”
“Why did you help the man with the itch before and why
do you refuse to help us now?” they asked reproachfully.
“Tell us, in what way is he better than we? We too have the
itch.”
“Is it my duty to relieve every man of his itch?” cried the
rich man, outraged. “If I helped the man with the itch before
it was because he had no one to scratch his poor back for
DROLL CHARACTERS 169
him. As for you — you louts — you are two. Go ahead — scratch
each other’s backs!”
On the Minsk-Pinsk Line
Once a poor Jew had to go to Pinsk from Minsk. As he had
no money he got on the train without a ticket. At the first
stop the conductor took him by the scruff of his neck, kicked
him in his rear end and threw him off the train.
The man got up, brushed the dust off his clothes and
boarded the next train to Pinsk. This time, too, the conductor
kicked him in his rear end and threw him off at the next sta-
tion.
For a third time he boarded a train and, as the conduc-
tor appeared, a man sitting next to him inquired, “How far
are you going, uncle?”
“That depends! If my backside holds out. I’m going to
Pinsk!”
The Schnorrer and the Farmer
A city schnorrer once came to a poor farmer and asked for
a night’s lodging.
“You are indeed welcome,” said the farmer and he treated
the schnorrer with the traditional Jewish hospitality shown to
penniless strangers. His wife fed him well and gave him a
comfortable bed to sleep in.
The schnorrer was so pleased with his host that in the
morning he said to him, “I like it here so much — perhaps you
will let me stay until tomorrow.”
“You are welcome to stay,” answered the polite farmer,
but not as heartily as the day before.
That day the farmer’s wife fed the stranger, but a little less
lavishly. He felt the growing coldness toward him but paid no
attention to it.
The following morning he decided he would stay another
day, but this time he did not ask for permission, for he was
afraid it might be refused. So he stayed on and, as the farmer
and his wife were polite, they said nothing to him about it.
But the meals they served him grew skimpier.
“What kind of hospitality is this?” suddenly cried the
schnorrer angrily. “Do you want me to starve to death?”
The farmer felt abashed and began to apologize. “Believe
me, it isn’t from stinginess. We’re poor people and we’ve
170
THE HUMAN COMEDY
hardly enough food for ourselves. If you stay another day
we’ll simply have nothing more to eat.”
“Good God!” exclaimed the schnorrer. “Had I only known
this I wouldn’t have accepted your hospitality in the first
place. Please forgive me! I’ll leave tomorrow morning. Be so
good as to wake me bright and early.”
At dawn the farmer came and woke him.
“It’s time to get up,” he said. “The cock has already
crowed.”
“What!” cried the schnorrer, overjoyed. “You still have a
cock? Then I can stay another day!”
One Blind Look Was Enough
A blind beggar stood on Essex Street in New York’s East
Side holding out his little tin cup.
“Help a blind man!” he whined piteously.
An old Jewish woman hobbled by.
“Nebich — a poor blind man!” she commiserated, and gave
him a dime.
The beggar was enraptured.
“As soon as I took the first look at you I knew you had a
kind heart!” he exclaimed.
Price Is No Object
The woman of the house took pity on a Jewish beggar and
invited him on the Sabbath day to eat gefillte fish. She placed
a platter of black bread and white chaleh on the table. She
noticed however that the beggar was gorging himself on the
chaleh which was more expensive, but didn’t touch the black
bread at all.
“Why do you eat only chaleh and not black bread?” she
asked with some irritation.
“I like chaleh better,” he said.
“My friend, chaleh is very dear."
“Believe me, auntie, it’s worth itl”
A Sure Cure
A schnorrer came to a large city and went to see a rich man
for an alms. But the servants would not let him in for the
rich man lay gravely ill.
DROLL CHARACTERS 171
“I know a sure cure for the sick man,” the schnorrer in-
sisted.
And so they let him in.
“I have a sure cure for you,” said the schnorrer when he
was taken to the sick man’s bedside. “But I want to be well
rewarded for it.”
“What’s your cure?” asked the rich man.
“Move to Kolomea right away!”
“What’s so good about Kolomea? Are there big doctors
there?”
“No, not at all. But you see, I come from Kolomea and, in
the memory of the oldest inhabitant there, no rich man has
ever died in Kolomea!”
Every Expert to His Own Field
A certain schnorrer attempted to gain Rothschild’s ear, only
to meet with rebuff. The beggar at last determined to create a
bit of turmoil, this being one of the time-honored techniques
when all appears to be lost.
So the schnorrer set up a commotion in the foyer of the
Rothschild establishment, shrieking at the top of his voice,
“My family is starving to death, and the Baron refuses to see
me.”
The baron, driven to distraction by the racket, came out.
“Very well,” he declared philosophically. “I’m defeated. Here
are twenty thalers. And may I add a bit of advice. If you
hadn’t made so much noise, you’d have got forty.”
“Sir,” said the schnorrer, pocketing the money, “you are a
banker; do I give you banking advice? I’m a schnorrer; don’t
give me schnorring advice.”
No Credit
The schnorrer made his usual request modestly, firmly, with
dignity.
“But I haven’t a cent in the house right now. Come back
tomorrow,” said the householder.
“Ah, my friend,” said the schnorrer, “if only you knew
what a fortune I have lost by giving credit.”
172 THE HUMAN COMEDY
He Spared No Expense
Dr. Levine, the great specialist, had just finished examining
Blum the schnorrer.
“What is the cost?” asked the patient
“Twenty-five dollars.”
“Twenty-five dollars! It’s too much! I ain’t got it!”
“Too much? All right, fifteen dollars.”
“Fifteen dollars! That’s out of the question!”
“Out of the question? Make it five dollars.”
“Five dollars! Who has five dollars? I’m a poor man!”
The doctor had had enough. “If five dollars is too much,
how much have you?”
“I have nothing.”
The doctor was now angry. “If you have nothing, how do
you have the nerve to come to so expensive a specialist as
myself?”
“For my health,” shouted Blum, beating his breast with the
strength of the righteous, “ nothing is too expensive!”
A Local Reputation
A strange schnorrer had just received so warm a welcome
that he was touched.
“Your welcome is a heart-warming thing,” he said to a rich
miser, “but how do you know that I come from another
city?”
“Because you came to me,” said the miser. “Anybody from
this town would know better.”
The Schnorrer-in-Law
Every Friday evening for years, the schnorrer had appeared
at the rich man’s house for the Sabbath meal. But one Fri-
day, a young stranger appeared with him.
The host, put out by this, asked, “Who is this?”
“Oh,” replied the schnorrer tolerantly, “I suppose I should
have told you. It’s my new son-in-law. You see, I promised to
give him board for the first year!”
DROLL CHARACTERS
173
Wags and Wits
Introduction
Like every other people the Jews were mirthfully entertained by
their wits and wags, pranksters and scalawags. It was a normal
expression of folk-life. There were a great number of such droll
characters among Jews. Many were nameless, but others were
real persons, like Shmerl Shnitkover, Yossel Marshalik, Reb
Shloime Ludmirer, Mordchi Kharkover, Motke Chabad, Sheike
Feifer and Froyim Greidinger. Some of the anecdotes in which
they figured are still current but, by and large, their pranks and
jests are no longer associated with their names and have been as-
similated into the large body of anonymous Jewish humor. And
often, where attribution does occur, it is of very doubtful authen-
ticity; the same stories and jokes have been variously ascribed to
several of them. They have very often served conveniently as per-
sonality-pegs on which to hang a popular story or jest
Gay as all these wags were, none of them could compare with
Hershel Ostropolier, for he was a man of comic originality. He
belongs to the merry company of Nasreddin and Tyl Eulenspie-
gel. Like them he was a folk-jester whose crackling wit and droll
pranks shook the Yiddish-speaking world with laughter. Like
them too Hershel was no mythical character — a product of the
folk fancy. On the contrary, it was Hershel who began the
process of creating folklore about himself. If he has had such an
enormous vogue to this very day, it is because his drolleries
represent the sanity of laughter among Jews.
Hershel was endowed with an unusual capacity for self-irony, a
rueful comicality in facing disaster, and a philosophy of disen-
chantment unmarred by a shred of defeatism. From the countless
stories circulating about him for the past one hundred and fifty
years emerges the portrait of a remarkably clear and uninvolved
character. He was an impish likeable schlimazl whose misfortunes
did not, by any means, arise from his own personal character
weaknesses but rather from the illogic of the topsy-turvy world
he lived in.
Born in Balta, in the Ukraine, during the second half of the
Eighteenth Century, Hershel was condemned by pauperized
parents and by the lack of opportunity so general in the ghetto to
a life without a trade or calling. Whatever he put his hand to
went askew. But because he was a dynamic individual, blessed
with a nimble intelligence and an indestructible optimism, he and
his family managed to subsist by his wits as well as by his wit.
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
For a number of years during the period 1770-1810, when
Rabbi Boruch reigned as the hereditary Hasidic tzaddik of
Miedziboz, Hershel served as his “court” jester. The rabbi, who
was the dynastic successor of his grandfather, Rabbi Israel ’Baal-
Shem, the founder of the Hasidic movement, was utterly unlike
his saintly ancestor. He was a vain self-indulged man who lived
as lavishly as the Polish Pans on the income of the “redemption
fees” he collected from his worshipping followers. Because he
suffered from melancholia, and also because he wished to ape the
landed Polish nobility, he decided to acquire a jester. So he grand-
ly hired the down-at-the-heels Hershel from Ostropolia to drive
his gloom away with merry quips and capers.
It goes without saying that, although Rabbi Boruch was divert-
ed by Hershel’s clowning, he didn’t like him a bit. How could
he? Hershel was not particular upon whom he played his pranks.
He struck at Rabbi Boruch’s most vulnerable weaknesses, and it
must have hurt. Nor in truth can it be said that Hershel was
charmed by Rabbi Boruch. In fact, there is every evidence that he
disliked him heartily, as would any man of sensibility if he were
obliged to play the mountebank to a stingy and parasitical nonen-
tity whose entire stock-in-trade lay in his yiches, in his illustrious
ancestry. Tradition has it that Hershel Ostropolier could boast
more Torah-learning than his rabbinical master and on occasion
would successfully expose his ignorant pretensions before the
Hasidim.
N.A.
He Worried Fast
Once there was a rabbi who was most unusual in one re-
spect: he was a prosperous merchant on the side. It chanced
that because of misjudgment he staked all his money on a
certain business deal and almost overnight became a poor
man. His disciples, hearing of this, hastened to his house in
order to comfort him for they expected to find him broken in
spirit. To their astonishment they found him serenely ab-
sorbed in his studies.
“Holy Rabbi!” they stammered incredulously. “We cannot
understand . . . don’t you worry at all?”
“Certainly I worry,” said the rabbi, “but you see God has
blessed me with a quick brain. The worrying that others do in
a month I can do in an hour!”
DROLL CHARACTERS 175
The Choice
The little Jewish jester was overcome with grief. His world
was at an end! For a long time he had served the Caliph at
Bagdad and his Court, keeping them amused whenever they
called upon him. But in a moment of thoughtlessness he had
displeased his ruler who ordered that he be put to death.
However,” said the Caliph, “in consideration of the merry
jests you’ve told me all these years, I will let you choose how
you are to die.”
“O most generous Caliph,” replied the jester, “if it’s all the
same to you, I choose death by old age!”
Mutual Introduction
A Jew was walking on the Bismarck Plate in Berlin when
unintentionally he brushed against a Prussian officer.
“Swine!” roared the officer.
“Cohen!” replied the Jew with a stiff bow.
Tit for Tat 4
Once I was a rabbiner. A rabbiner, not a rabbi. That is, I
was called rabbi — but a rabbi of the crown.
To old-country Jews I don’t have to explain what a rabbi
of the crown is. They know the breed. What are his great re-
sponsibilities? He fills out birth certificates, officiates at cir-
cumcisions, performs marriages, grants divorces. He gets his
share from the living and the dead. In the synagogue he has a
place of honor, and when the congregation rises, he is the
first to stand. On legal holidays he appears in a stovepipe hat
and holds forth in his best Russian: "Gospoda Prihozhanel”
To take it for granted that among our people a rabbiner is
well loved— let’s not say any more. Say rather that we put
up with him, as we do a government inspector or a deputy
sheriff. And yet he is chosen from among the people, that
is, every three years a proclamation is sent us: “Na Osnavania
Predpisania . . .” Or, as we would say: “Your Lord, the Gov-
ernor, orders you to come together in the synagogue, poor
little Jews, and pick out a rabbiner for yourselves . . .”
Then the campaign begins. Candidates, hot discussions,
brandy, and maybe even a bribe or two. After which come
charges and countercharges, the elections are annulled, and
we are ordered to hold new elections. Again the procla-
176
THE HUMAN COMEDY
mations: “Na Osnavania Predpisania . . Again candidates,
discussions, party organizations, brandy, a bribe or two . . .
That was the life!
Well, there I was — a rabbiner in a small town in the prov-
ince of Poltava. But I was anxious to be a modem one. I
wanted to serve the public. So I dropped the formalities of
my position and began to mingle with the people — as we say:
to stick my head into the community pot. I got busy with the
Talmud Torah, the charity fund, interpreted a law, settled
disputes or just gave plain advice.
The love of settling disputes, helping people out, or advis-
ing them, I inherited from my father and my uncles. They —
may they rest in peace — also enjoyed being bothered all the
time with other people’s business. There are two kinds of
people in the world: those that you can’t bother at all, and
others whom you can bother all the time. You can climb
right on their heads — naturally not in one jump, but gradu-
ally. First you climb into their laps, then on to their shoul-
ders, then their heads — and after that you can jump up and
down on their heads and stamp on their hearts with your
heavy boots — as long as you want to.
I was that kind, and without boasting I can tell you that I
had plenty of ardent followers and plain hangers-on who
weren’t ashamed to come every day and fill my head with
their clamoring and sit around till late at night. They never
refused a glass of tea, or cigarettes. Newspapers and books
they took without asking. In short, I was a regular fellow.
Well, there came a day . . . The door opened, and in
walked the very foremost men of the town, the sparkling
best, the very cream of the city. Four householders — men of
affairs — you could almost say: real men of substance. And
who were these men? Three of them were the Troika — that
was what we called them in our town because they were to-
gether all the time — partners in whatever business any one of
them was in. They always fought, they were always suspi-
cious of each other, and watched everything the others did,
and still they never separated — working always on this princi-
ple: if the business is a good one and there is profit to be
made, why shouldn’t I have a lick at the bone too? And on
the other hand, if it should end in disaster — you’ll be buried
along with me, and lie with me deep in the earth. And what
does God do? He brings together the three partners with a
DROLL CHARACTERS 177
fourth one. They operate together a little less than a year and
end up in a brawl. That is why they’re here.
What had happened? “Since God created thieves, swindlers
and crooks, you never saw a thief, swindler or crook like this
one.” That is the way the three old partners described the
fourth one to me. And he, the fourth, said the same about
them. Exactly the same, word for word. And who was this
fourth one? He was the quiet little man, a little innocent-
looking fellow, with thick, dark eyebrows under which a pair
of shrewd, ironic, little eyes watched everything you did. Ev-
eryone called him Nachman Lekach.
His real name was Nachman Noss’n, but everybody called
him Nachman Lekach, because as you know, Noss’n is the
Hebrew for “he gave,” and Lekach means “he took,” and in
all the time we knew him, no one had ever seen him give
anything to anyone — while at taking no one was better.
Where were we? Oh, yes . . . So they came to the rabbiner
with the complaints, to see if he could find a way of
straightening out their tangled accounts. “Whatever you de-
cide, Rabbi, and whatever you decree, and whatever you say,
will be final.”
That is how the three old partners said it, and the fourth,
Reb Nachman, nodded with that innocent look on his face to
indicate that he too left it all up to me: “For the reason,” his
eyes said, “that I know that I have done no wrong.” And he
sat down in a comer, folded his arms across his chest like an
old woman, fixed his shrewd, ironic, little eyes on me, and
waited to see what his partners would have to say. And when
they had all laid out their complaints and charges, presented
all their evidence, said all they had to say, he got up, patted
down his thick eyebrows, and not looking at the others at all,
only at me, with those deep, deep, shrewd little eyes of his,
he proceeded to demolish their claims and charges — so com-
pletely, that it looked as if they were the thieves, swindlers
and crooks — the three partners of his — and he, Nachman
Lekach, was a man of virtue and piety, the little chicken that
is slaughtered before Yom Kippur to atone for our sins — a
sacrificial lamb. “And every word that you heard them say is
a complete lie, it never was and never could be. It’s simply
out of the question.” And he proved with evidence, argu-
ments and supporting data that everything he said was true
and holy, as if Moses himself had said it.
All the time he was talking, the others, the Troika, could
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
hardly sit in their chairs. Every moment one or another of
them jumped up, clutched his head — or his heart! “Of all
things! How can a man talk like that! Such lies and false-
hoods!” It was almost impossible to calm them down, to keep
them from tearing at the fourth one’s beard. As for me — the
rabbiner — it was hard, very hard to crawl out from this horri-
ble tangle, because by now it was clear that I had a fine band
to deal with, all four of them swindlers, thieves and crooks,
and informers to boot, and all four of them deserving a
severe punishment. But what? At last this idea occurred to
me, and I said to them:
“Are you ready, my friends? I am prepared to hand down
my decision. My mind is made up. But I won’t disclose what
I have to say until each of you has deposited twenty-five
rubles — to prove that you will act upon the decision I am
about to hand down.”
“With the greatest of pleasure,” the three spoke out at
once, and Nachman Lekach nodded his head, and all four
reached into their pockets, and each one counted out his
twenty-five on the table. I gathered up the money, locked it
up in a drawer, and then I gave them my decision in these
words:
“Having heard the complaints and the arguments of both
parties, and having examined your accounts and studied your
evidence, I find according to my understanding and deep con-
viction, that all four of you are in the wrong, and not only in
the wrong, but that it is a shame and a scandal for Jewish
people to conduct themselves in such a manner — to falsify ac-
counts, perjure yourselves and even act as informers. There-
fore I have decided that since we have a Talmud Torah in
our town with many children who have neither clothes nor
shoes, and whose parents have nothing with which to pay
their tuition, and since there has been no help at all from you
gentlemen (to get a few pennies from you one has to reach
down into your very gizzards) therefore it is my decision that
this hundred rubles of yours shall go to the Talmud Torah,
and as for you, gentlemen, you can go home, in good health,
and thanks for your contribution. The poor children will now
have some shoes and socks and shirts and pants, and I’m sure
they’ll pray to God for you and your children. Amen.”
Having heard the sentence, the three old partners — the
Troika — looked from one to the other — flushed, unable to
speak. A decision like this they had not anticipated. The only
DROLL CHARACTERS
179
one who could say a word was Reb Nachman Lekach. He
got up, patted down his thick eyebrows, held out a hand, and
looking at me with his ironic little eyes, said this:
“I thank you, Rabbi Rabbiner, in behalf of all four of us,
for the wise decision which you have just made known. Such
a judgment could have been made by no one since King Sol-
omon himself. There is only one thing that you forgot to say,
Rabbi Rabbiner, and that is: what is your fee for this wise
and just decision?”
“I beg your pardon,” I tell him. “You’ve come to the
wrong address. I am not one of those rabbiners who tax the
living and the dead.” That is the way I answered him, like a
real gentleman. And this was his reply:
“If that’s the case, then you are not only a sage and a
Rabbi among men, you’re an honest man besides. So, if you
would care to listen, I’d like to tell you a story. Say that we
will pay you for your pains at least with a story.”
“Good enough. Even with two stories.”
“In that case, sit down, Rabbi Rabbiner, and let us have
your cigarette case. I’ll tell you an interesting story, a true
one, too, something that happened to me. What happened to
others I don’t like to talk about.”
And we lit our cigarettes, sat down around the table, and
Reb Nachman spread out his thick eyebrows, and looking at
me with his shrewd, smiling, little eyes, he slowly began to
tell his true story of what had once happened to him himself.
All this happened to me a long time ago. I was still a
young man and I was living not far from here, in a village
near the railroad. I traded in this and that, I had a small tav-
ern, made a living. A Rothschild I didn’t become, but bread
we had, and in time there were about ten lewish families liv-
ing close by — because, as you know, if one of us makes a liv-
ing, others come around. They think you’re shoveling up gold
. . . But that isn’t the point. What I was getting at was that
right in the midst of the busy season one year, when things
were moving and traffic was heavy, my wife had to go and
have a baby — our boy — our first son. What do you say to
that? “Congratulations! Congratulations everybody!” But that
isn’t all. You have to have a bris, the circumcision. I dropped
everything, went into town, bought all the good things I could
find, and came back with the Mohel with all his instruments,
and for good measure I also brought the shammes of the
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
synagogue. I thought that with these two holy men and my-
self and the neighbors we’d have the ten men that we needed,
with one to spare. But what does God do? He has one of my
neighbors get sick — he is sick in bed and can’t come to the
bris, you can’t carry him. And another has to pack up and go
off to the city. He can’t wait another day! And here I am
without the ten men. Go do something. Here it is — Friday!
Of all days, my wife has to pick Friday to have the bris — the
day before the Sabbath. The Mohel is frantic — he has to go
back right away. The shammes is actually in tears. “What did
you ever drag us off here for?” they both want to know. And
what can I do?
All I can think of is to run off to the railroad station. Who
knows — so many people come through every day — maybe
God will send some one. And that’s just what happened. I
come running up to the station — the agent has just called out
that a train is about to leave. I look around — a little roly-poly
man carrying a huge traveling bag comes flying by, all
sweating and out of breath, straight toward the lunch
counter. He looks over the dishes — what is there a good Jew
can take in a country railroad station? A piece of herring —
an egg. Poor fellow — you could see his mouth was watering.
I grab him by the sleeve. “Uncle, are you looking for some-
thing to eat,” I ask him, and the look he gives me says:
“How did you know that?” I keep on talking: “May you live
to be a hundred — God himself must have sent you.” He still
doesn’t understand, so I proceed: “Do you want to earn the
blessings of eternity — and at the same time eat a beef roast
that will melt in your mouth, with a fresh, white loaf right
out of the oven?” He still looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Who
are you? What do you want?”
So I tell him the whole story — what a misfortune had over-
taken us: here we are, all ready for the bris, the Mohel is
waiting, the food is ready — and such food! — and we need a
tenth man! “What’s that got to do with me?” he asks, and I
tell him : What s that got to do with you? Why — everything
depends on you— you’re the tenth man! I beg you — come
with me. You will earn all the rewards of heaven — and have
a delicious dinner in the bargain!” “Are you crazy,” he asks
me, “or are you just out of your head? My train is leaving in
a few minutes, and it’s Friday afternoon — almost sundown.
Do you know what that means? In a few more hours the Sab-
bath will catch up with me, and I’ll be stranded.” “So what!”
DROLL CHARACTERS 181
I tell him. “So you’ll take the next train. And in the meantime
you’ll earn eternal life — and taste a soup, with fresh
dumplings, that only my wife can make . . .”
Well, why make the story long? I had my way. The roast
and the hot soup with fresh dumplings did their work. You
could see my customer licking his lips. So I grab the traveling
bag and I lead him home, and we go through with the bris. It
was a real pleasure! You could smell the roast all over the
house, it had so much garlic in it. A roast like that, with
fresh warm twist, is a delicacy from heaven. And when you
consider that we had some fresh dill pickles, and a bottle of
beer, and some cognac before the meal and cherry cider after
the meal — you can imagine the state our guest was in! His
cheeks shone and his forehead glistened. But what then? Be-
fore we knew it the afternoon was gone. My guest jumps up,
he looks around, sees what time it is, and almost has a stroke!
He reaches for his traveling bag: “Where is it?” I say to him
“What’s your hurry? In the first place, do you think we’ll let
you run off like that — before the Sabbath? And in the second
place — who are you to leave on a journey an hour or two be-
fore the Sabbath? And if you’re going to get caught out in
the country somewhere, you might just as well stay here with
us.”
He groans and he sighs. How could I do a thing like that
to him — keep him so late! What did I have against him? Why
hadn’t I reminded him earlier? He doesn’t stop bothering me.
So I say to him: “In the first place, did I have to tell you that
it was Friday afternoon? Didn’t you know it yourself? And in
the second place, how do you know — maybe it’s the way God
wanted it? Maybe He wanted you to stay here for the Sab-
bath so you could taste some of my wife’s fish? I can guaran-
tee you, that as long as you’ve eaten fish, you haven’t eaten
fish like my wife’s fish — not even in a dream!” Well, that
ended the argument. We said our evening prayers, had a glass
of wine, and my wife brings the fish to the table. My guest’s
nostrils swell out, a new light shines in his eyes and he goes
after that fish as if he hadn’t eaten a thing all day. He can’t
get over it. He praises it to the skies. He fills a glass with
brandy and drinks a toast to the fish. And then comes the
soup, a specially rich Sabbath soup with noodles. And he
likes that, too, and the tzimmes also, and the meat that goes
with the tzimmes, a nice, fat piece of brisket. I’m telling you,
he just sat there licking his fingers! When we’re finishing the
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
last course he turns to me: “Do you know what I’ll tell you?
Now that it’s all over, I’m really glad that I stayed over for
Shabbes. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a Sabbath as
I’ve enjoyed this one.” “If that’s how you feel, I’m happy,” I
tell him. “But wait. This is only a sample. Wait till tomorrow.
Then you’ll see what my wife can do.”
And so it was. The next day, after services, we sit down at
the table. Well, you should have seen the spread. First the ap-
petizers: crisp wafers and chopped herring, and onions and
chicken fat, with radishes and chopped liver and eggs and
gribbenes. And after that the cold fish and the meat from
yesterday’s tzimmes, and then the jellied neat’s foot, or
fisnoga as you call it, with thin slices of garlic, and after that
the potato cholent with the kugel that had been in the oven
all night — and you know what that smells like when you take
it out of the oven and take the cover off the pot. And what it
tastes like. Our visitor could not find words to praise it. So I
tell him: “This is still nothing. Wait until you have tasted our
borsht tonight, then you’ll know what good food is.” At that
he laughs out loud — a friendly laugh, it is true — and says to
me: “Yes, but how far do you think I’ll be from here by the
time your borsht is ready?” So I laugh even louder than he
does, and say: “You can forget that right now! Do you think
you’ll be going off tonight?”
And so it was. As soon as the lights were lit and we had a
glass of wine to start off the new week, my friend begins to
pack his things again. So I call out to him: “Are you crazy?
Do you think we’ll let you go off, the Lord knows where, at
night? And besides, where’s your train?” “What?” he yells at
me. “No train? Why, you’re murdering me! You know I have
to leave!” But I say, “May this be the greatest misfortune in
your life. Your train will come, if all is well, around dawn to-
morrow. In the meantime I hope your appetite and digestion
are good, because I can smell the borsht already! All I ask,” I
say, “is just tell me the truth. Tell me if you’ve ever touched
a borsht like this before. But I want the absolute truth!”
What’s the use of talking — he had to admit it: never before
in all his life had he tasted a borsht like this. Never. He even
started to ask how you made the borsht, what you put into it,
and how long you cooked it. Everything. And I say: “Don’t
worry about that! Here, taste this wine and tell me what you
think of it. After all, you’re an expert. But the truth! Remem-
DROLL CHARACTERS
183
ber — nothing but the truth! Because if there is anything I
hate, it’s flattery . .
So we took a glass, and then another glass, and we went to
bed. And what do you think happened? My traveler
overslept, and missed the early morning train. When he
wakes up he boils over! He jumps on me like a murderer.
Wasn’t it up to me, out of fairness and decency, to wake him
up in time? Because of me he’s going to have to take a loss, a
heavy loss — he doesn’t even know himself how heavy. It was
all my fault. I ruined him. I! ... So I let him talk. I listen,
quietly, and when he’s all through, I say: “Tell me yourself,
aren’t you a queer sort of person? In the first place, what’s
your hurry? What are you rushing for? How long is a per-
son’s life altogether? Does he have to spoil that little with
rushing and hurrying? And in the second place, have you for-
gotten that today is the third day since the brisl Doesn’t that
mean a thing to you? Where we come from, on the third day
we’re in the habit of putting on a feast better than the one at
the bris itself. The third day — it’s something to celebrate!
You’re not going to spoil the celebration, are you?”
What can he do? He can’t control himself any more, and
he starts laughing — a hysterical laugh. “What good does it do
to talk?” he says. “You’re a real leech!” “lust as you say,” I
tell him, “but after all, you’re a visitor, aren’t you?”
At the dinner table, after we’ve had a drink or two, I call
out to him: “Look,” I say, “it may not be proper — after all,
we’re Jews — to talk about milk and such things while we’re
eating meat, but I’d like to know your honest opinion: what
do you think of kreplach with cheese?” He looks at me with
distrust. “How did we get around to that?” he asks. “Just like
this,” I explain to him. “I’d like to have you try the cheese
kreplach that my wife makes — because tonight, you see,
we’re going to have a dairy supper . . .” This is too much for
him, and he comes right back at me with, “Not this time!
You’re trying to keep me here another day, I can see that.
But you can’t do it. It isn’t right! It isn’t right!” And from the
way he fusses and fumes it’s easy to see that I won’t have to
coax him too long, or fight with him either, because what is
he but a man with an appetite, who has only one philosophy,
which he practices at the table? So I say this to him: “I give
you my word of honor, and if that isn’t enough, I’ll give you
my hand as well — here, shake — that tomorrow I’ll wake you
up in time for the earliest train. I promise it, even if the
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
world turns upside down. If I don’t, may I — you know
what!” At this he softens and says to me: “Remember, we’re
shaking hands on that!” And I: “A promise is a promise.”
And my wife makes a dairy supper — how can I describe it to
you? With such kreplach that my traveler has to admit that it
was all true: he has a wife too, and she makes kreplach too,
but how can you compare hers with these? It’s like night and
day!
And I kept my word, because a promise is a promise. I
woke him when it was still dark, and started the samovar. He
finished packing and began to say goodbye to me and the rest
of the household in a very handsome, friendly style. You
could see he was a gentleman. But I interrupt him: “We’ll
say goodbye a little later. First, we have to settle up.” “What
do you mean — settle up?” “Settle up,” I say, “means to add
up the figures. That’s what I’m going to do now. I’ll add them
up, let you know what it comes to, and you will be so kind as
to pay me.”
His face flames red. “Pay you?” he shouts. “Pay you for
what?” “For what?” I repeat. “You want to know for what?
For everything. The food, the drink, the lodging.” This time
he becomes white — not red — and he says to me: “I don’t un-
derstand you at all. You came and invited me to the bris.
You stopped me at the train. You took my bag away from
me. You promised me eternal life.” “That’s right,” I inter-
rupt him. “That’s right. But what’s one thing got to do with
the other? When you came to the bris you earned your re-
ward in heaven. But food and drink and lodging — do I have
to give you these things for nothing? After all, you’re a
businessman, aren’t you? You should understand that fish
costs money, and that the wine you drank was the very best,
and the beer, too, and the cherry cider. And you remember
how you praised the tzimmes and the puddings and the
borsht. You remember how you licked your fingers. And the
cheese kreplach smelled pretty good to you, too. Now, I’m
glad you enjoyed these things: I don’t begrudge you that in
the least. But certainly you wouldn’t expect that just because
you earned a reward in heaven, and enjoyed yourself in the
bargain, that / should pay for it?” My traveling friepd was
really sweating; he looked as if he’d have a stroke. He began
to throw himself around, yell, scream, call for help. “This is
Sodom!” he cried. “Worse than Sodom! It’s the worst outrage
the world has ever heard of! How much do you want?”
DROLL CHARACTERS
185
Calmly I took a piece of paper and a pencil and began to
add it up. I itemized everything, I gave him an inventory of
everything he ate, of every hour he spent in my place. All in
all it added up to something like thirty-odd rubles and some
kopeks — I don’t remember it exactly.
When he saw the total, my good man went green and yel-
low, his hands shook, and his eyes almost popped out, and
again he let out a yell, louder than before. “What did I fall
into— a nest of thieves? Isn’t there a single human being
here? Is there a God anywhere?” So I say to him, “Look, sir,
do you know what? Do you know what you’re yelling about?
Do you have to eat your heart out? Here is my suggestion:
let’s ride into town together — it’s not far from here — and
we’ll find some people — there’s a rabbiner there — let’s ask the
rabbi. And we’ll abide by what he says.” When he heard me
talk like that, he quieted down a little. And — don’t worry —
we hired a horse and wagon, climbed in, and rode off to
town, the two of us, and went straight to the rabbi.
When we got to the rabbi’s house, we found him just fin-
ishing his morning prayers. He folded up his prayer shawl
and put his phylacteries away. “Good morning,” we said to
him, and he: “What’s the news today?” The news? My friend
tears loose and lets him have the whole story — everything
from A to Z. He doesn’t leave a word out. He tells how he
stopped at the station, and so on and so on, and when he’s
through he whips out the bill I had given him and hands it to
the rabbi. And when the rabbi had heard everything, he says:
“Having heard one side I should now like to hear the other.”
And turning to me, he asks, “What do you have to say to all
that?*’ I answer: “Everything he says is true. There’s not a
word I can add. Only one thing I’d like to have him tell
you — on his word of honor: did he eat the fish, and did he
drink the beer and cognac and the cider, and did he smack
his lips over the borsht that my wife made?” At this the man
becomes almost frantic, he jumps and he thrashes about like
an apoplectic. The rabbi begs him not to boil like that, not to
be so angry, because anger is a grave sin. And he asks him
again about the fish and the borsht and the kreplach, and if it
was true that he had drunk not only the wine, but beer and
cognac and cider as well. Then the rabbi puts on his specta-
cles, looks the bill over from top to bottom, checks every
line, and finds it correct! Thirty-odd rubles and some kopeks,
and he makes his judgment brief: he tells the man to pay
186
the human comedy
the whole thing, and for the wagon back and forth, and a
judgment fee for the rabbi himself
The man stumbles out of the rabbi’s house looking as if
he d been in a steam bath too long, takes out his purse, pulls
out two twenty-fives and snaps at me: “Give me the change.”
“What change?” I ask, and he says: “For the thirty you
charged me — for that bill you gave me.” “Bill? What bill?
What thirty are you talking about? What do you think I am,
a highwayman? Do you expect me to take money from you?
I see a man at the railroad station, a total stranger; I take his
bag away from him, and drag him off almost by force to our
ovra bris, and spend a wonderful Shabbes with him. So am I
going to charge him for the favor he did me, and for the
pleasure I had?” Now he looks at me as if I really am crazy,
and says: “Then why did you carry on like this? Why did
you drag me to the rabbi?” “Why this? Why that?” I say to
him. “You’re a queer sort of person, you are! I wanted to
show you what kind of man our rabbi was, that’s all . .
When he finished the story, my litigant, Reb Nachman
Lekach, got up with a flourish, and the other three partners
followed him. They buttoned their coats and prepared to
leave. But I held them off. I passed the cigarettes around
again, and said to the story-teller:
So you told me a story about a rabbi. Now maybe you’ll
be so kind as to let me tell you a story — also about a rabbi,
but a much shorter story than the one you told.”
And without waiting for a yes or no, I started right in, and
made it brief:
This happened, I began, not so long ago, and in a large
city, on Yom Kippur eve. A stranger falls into the town — a
businessman, a traveler, who goes here and there, every-
where, sells merchandise, collects money ... On this day he
comes into the city, walks up and down in front of the
synagogue, holding his sides with both hands, asks everybody
he sees where he can find the rabbi. “What do you want the
rabbi for?” people ask. “What business is that of yours?” he
wants to know. So they don’t tell him. And he asks one man,
he asks another: “Can you tell me where the rabbi lives?”
“What do you want the rabbi for?” “What do you care?”
This one and that one, till finally he gets the answer, finds the
rabbi’s house, goes in, still holding his sides with both hands.
DROLL CHARACTERS
187
He calls the rabbi aside, shuts the door, and says, “Rabbi, this
is my story. I am a traveling man, and I have money with
me, quite a pile. It’s not my money. It belongs to my
clients — first to God and then to my clients. It’s Yom Kippur
eve. I can’t carry money with me on Yom Kippur, and I’m
afraid to leave it at my lodgings. A sum like that! So do me a
favor — take it, put it away in your strong box till tomorrow
night, after Yom Kippur.”
And without waiting, the man unbuttons his vest and
draws out one pack after another, crisp and clean, the real
red, crackling, hundred ruble notes!
Seeing how much there was, the rabbi said to him: “I beg
your pardon. You don’t know me, you don’t know who I
am.” “What do you mean, I don’t know who you are? You’re
a rabbi, aren’t you?” “Yes, I’m a rabbi. But I don’t know
you — who you are or what you are.” They bargain back and
forth. The traveler: “You’re a rabbi.” The rabbi: “I don’t
know who you are.” And time does not stand still. It’s almost
Yom Kippur ! Finally the rabbi agrees to take the money. The
only thing is, who should be the witnesses? You can’t trust
just anyone in a matter like that.
So the rabbi sends for the leading townspeople, the very
cream, rich and respectable citizens, and says to them: “This
is what I called you for. This man has money with him, a
tidy sum, not his own, but first God’s and then his clients’.
He wants me to keep it for him till after Yom Kippur. There-
fore I want you to be witnesses, to see how much he leaves
with me, so that later — you understand?” And the rabbi took
the trouble to count it all over three times before the eyes of
the townspeople, wrapped the notes in a kerchief, sealed
the kerchief with wax, and stamped his initials on the seal.
He passed this from one man to the other, saying, “Now
look. Here is my signature, and remember, you’re the
witnesses.” The kerchief with the money in it he handed over
to his wife, had her lock it in a chest, and hide the keys
where no one could find them. And he himself, the rabbi,
went to shut, and prayed and fasted as it was ordained, lived
through Yom Kippur, came home, had a bite to eat, looked
up, and there was the traveler. “Good evening, Rabbi.”
“Good evening. Sit down. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I came for my package.” “What package?” “The
money.” “What money?” “The money I left with you to keep
188
THE HUMAN COMEDY
for me.” “You gave me money to keep for you? When was
that?”
The traveler laughs out loud. He thinks the rabbi is joking
with him. The rabbi asks: “What are you laughing at?” And
the man says: “It’s the first time I met a rabbi who liked to
play tricks.” At this the rabbi is insulted. No one, he pointed
out, had ever called him a trickster before. “Tell me, my
good man, what do you want here?”
When he heard these words, the stranger felt his heart stop.
“Why, Rabbi, in the name of all that’s holy, do you want to
kill me? Didn’t I give you all my money? That is, not mine,
but first God’s and then my clients’? I’ll remind you, you
wrapped it in a kerchief, sealed it with wax, locked it in your
wife’s chest, hid the key where no one could find it. And here
is better proof: there were witnesses, the leading citizens of
the city!” And he goes ahead and calls them all off by name.
In the midst of it a cold sweat breaks out on his forehead, he
feels faint, and asks for a glass of water.
The rabbi sends the shammes off to the men the traveler
had named — the leading citizens, the flower of the commu-
nity. They come running from all directions. “What’s the
matter? What happened?” “A misfortune. A plot! A millstone
around our necks I He insists that he brought a pile of money
to me yesterday, to keep over Yom Kip pur, and that you
were witnesses to the act.”
The householders look at each other, as if to say: “Here is
where we get a nice bone to lick!” And they fall on the trav-
eler: how could he do a thing like that? He ought to be
ashamed of himself! Thinking up an ugly plot like that
against our rabbil
When he saw what was happening, his arms and legs went
limp, he just about fainted. But the rabbi got up, went to the
chest, took out the kerchief and handed it to him.
“What’s the matter with you! Here! Here is your money!
Take it and count it, see if it’s right, here in front of your
witnesses. The seal, as you see, is untouched. The wax is
whole, just as it ought to be.”
The traveler felt as if a new soul had been installed in his
body. His hands trembled and tears stood in his eyes.
“Why did you have to do it, Rabbi? Why did you have to
play this trick on me? A trick like this.”
“I just wanted to show you — the kind — of — leading cit-
izens— we have in our town.”
DROLL CHARACTERS
189
The Jew and the Caliph
Once there was a Caliph of Arabia who hated Jews. So he is-
sued the following decree: “Every Jew who enters my king-
dom must be halted by the guards and ordered to tell
something about himself. If he lies — he is to be shot. If he
tells the truth — he is to be hanged.”
By this stratagem the Caliph hoped to exterminate all the
Jews in Arabia.
One day a Jew came. When the Caliph’s servants com-
manded him to tell something about himself he said, “I am
going to be shot today.”
The guards were confused by his words, so they brought
the matter to their royal master’s attention.
“H-m-m!” cogitated the wily Caliph. “This is indeed a diffi-
cult matter! If I were to shoot the Jew it would imply that he
told the truth. In that case the law is that he should be
hanged; so I cannot shoot him. On the other hand, if I had
him hanged it would imply that he told a lie, and for that the
law provides shooting; so I cannot hang him.”
And so they let the Jew go.
You’re as Old as You Feel
A forty-year-old man married a girl of twenty. It caused a
sensation in their social circle. Once, when someone indeli-
cately referred to the difference in their ages, he replied, “It’s
really not so bad. When she looks at me she feels ten years
older, and when I look at her I feel ten years younger. So
what’s wrong — we’re both thirty!”
Mazel Tovl
“I have come to report,” said Tevye the carpenter to the
secretary of the burial society, “that my wife has died, and I
wish the sum required for her burial.”
“But how can that be?” asked the official. “We buried
your wife two years ago.”
“Oh, that was my first wife,” said Tevye, “and now my
second wife, too, has died.”
“Excuse me,” said the secretary, “I didn’t know you had
remarried. Mazel tovl”
THE HUMAN COMEDY
190
Wrong Order
On an unbearably hot day, at the very door of a soda
fountain, an elderly Jew fainted away.
People rushed to his side crying, “Water! Water! A man
has fainted! Water!”
Feebly the old man raised his head, and corrected the
bystanders: “A malted!”
The Foresighted Traveller
A weary traveller, alone in a train compartment enjoying a
few hours of relaxation, was accosted by a stranger with the
customary “Sholom aleichem.”
Instead of the usual “ Aleichem sholom,” in reply, this trav-
eller sat up and began wearily: “Listen closely, my friend.
I’m from Byalistok, and I’m on my way to Warsaw. I’m in
the wholesale grocery business, but it’s really, I assure you, a
small business. My last name is Cohen. My first name is
Moishe. I have one son, about to be Bar Mitzvah, and two
daughters, both lovely, one married and the other engaged to
be married. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I have no hobbies,
and I stay out of politics. I hope I haven’t forgotten anything
but if I have, please don’t stand on ceremony. Ask me now,
because I’m dead tired and I’m going to take a nap!”
Dramatic Criticism
Mrs. Goldstein could never induce her husband to enter a
theatre.
He had an excuse always for staying home, or for joining
his cronies at gin rummy or pinochle.
But at last Mrs. Goldstein’s patience was exhausted. “This
time,” she proclaimed, “you go with me, or I’ll give you rea-
son to regret it.”
So Mr. Goldstein permitted himself to be dragged to the
drama. He squirmed and fidgeted through the evening, while
his wife responded appropriately to the play.
“What do you say now?” she asked, triumphantly, when
the lights went up.
“It stinks,” was the laconic reply.
“What do you mean it stinks?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you,” said Mr. Goldstein, disgust finally breaking
through his restraint. “In the theatre it’s always the same — a
DROLL CHARACTERS
191
man and a woman ... Now when he wants, she doesn’t
want . . . And when she wants, he doesn’t want . . .
And when they both want, down comes the curtain!”
Why Noodles Are Noodles
Once, someone asked Motke Chabad, the wag, “Tell me,
Motke, you’re a smart fellow — why do they call noodles
‘noodles’?”
Motke answered without hesitation, “What a question to
ask! They’re long like noodles, aren’t they? They’re soft like
noodles, aren’t they? And they taste like noodles, don’t they?
So why shouldn’t they be called noodles?”
The Big Blow
Froyim Greidinger, the Galician prankster, was on his way
home one Friday night. It was past midnight when he passed
the house of his pious grandparents. To his surprise he saw
that they were still up, the Sabbath candles burning brightly,
so he went in.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked. “It’s past midnight.”
His grandparents looked dejected.
“We can’t go to sleep on account of the candles,” his
grandfather explained. “If we let them bum themselves out
the house may catch fire, and we can’t snuff them out be-
cause it’s the holy Sabbath. Nor is there a peasant around to
blow them out.”
For a moment Froyim was lost in thought.
‘Tell me, grandpa, when is PurimT’ asked Froyim, stand-
ing in front of one of the candles.
He spoke in a very loud voice and when he came to the
letter P in Purim he puffed out his cheeks and bellowed. The
candle went out instantly.
Then, standing in front of the second candle, Froyim
asked, “And when is Passover?”
When he came to the letter P in Passover he again puffed
out his cheeks and bellowed. The second candle also went
out. Then turning with a grin to his grandparents, Froyim
said, “Now you can go to bed. Thank God none of us had to
violate the Sabbath!”
192 THE HUMAN COMEDY
The Sacrifice Was Too Great
Froyim Greidinger went into an inn and ordered supper.
When the meat course was put before him he saw a tiny bit
of roast. At this he burst into loud wailing. The startled inn-
keeper ran up to him and cried, “What is it — what has hap-
pened?”
“Happened!” wept Froyim. “To think that just because of
this little morsel of meat a great big ox had to be killedl”
HERSHEL OSTROPOLIER
HersheYs Conflict
Once, on a Thursday, Hershel Ostropolier came to his rabbi
to ask from him money for the Sabbath. It had been defi-
nitely agreed that the rabbi was to pay him weekly wages.
Had he not imported Hershel from Ostropolia to Miedziboz
to serve as his jester in order to help him drive away his de-
pression? But the rabbi, who was ill-natured and tight-fisted,
was reluctant to pay him his wages. Hershel had to resort to
all kinds of stratagems to collect from him. Many a time, he
and his wife and children were forced to go hungry, did not
have the wherewithal to observe the Sabbath with decency.
“What do you think — money grows on trees?” the rabbi
said at first. Afterwards, when he saw that Hershel was deter-
mined, he put on a cheerful face and said to him, “If you’ll
tell me a good story I’ll try and find for you a couple of gul-
den to buy food for the Sabbath.”
Hershel almost burned up on hearing these words. He
lusted for revenge! He thought the matter over and finally
told the rabbi the following story:
‘Two weeks ago, not having any money with which to buy
food for the Sabbath, I began to worry. From whence will
come my aid? And as I walked along the deserted road I sud-
denly saw rising before me, right out of the ground, the Evil
Spirit himself!
“ ‘Why do you look so worried, Hershel?’ he asked me.
“ ‘Why should I be jolly?’ I replied. ‘It’s Thursday already
and my wife hasn’t a broken kopek to go to market with.’
“When the Evil Spirit heard this he laughed.
“ ‘What a fool!’ he leered at me. ‘Why don’t you go to the
DROLL CHARACTERS
193
rabbi’s house and, when no one is looking, steal from his
table a silver spoon so you’ll spend a nice Sabbath?*
“So I did as he said. And believe me, I had a pleasant Sab-
bath! A week ago Thursday I again didn’t have anything for
the Sabbath. Again I decided to go to the rabbi’s house for a
silver spoon. But on the way there, I met with the Good
Spirit who buttonholed me.
“ ‘Where is a Jew going, Hershel?’ he asked.
“I cringed.
‘“I’m on my way to the rabbi’s house to steal a silver
spoon so that I’ll be able to buy food for the Sabbath,’ I re-
plied.
“Hearing this, the Good Spirit began to preach at me.
“ ‘How can you do such an awful thing, Hershel?’ he de-
manded. “The very idea should make you tremble like a leaf!
Surely, a man of your learning knows the difference between
good and evil! It is specifically mentioned in the Ten Com-
mandments: ‘Thou shalt not steal.’
“ ‘Nonsense!’ I replied. ‘Granted I do know that to steal a
silver spoon from the rabbi is a sin, but what can I do when
the rabbi, who employs me as his jester, doesn’t pay me my
weekly wages?’
“ ‘Follow my advice,’ said the Good Spirit, ‘don’t steal and
God will surely come to your aid.’
“Believe me, Rabbi, the Good Spirit stuck to me like a leech
and wouldn’t let go of me until I agreed to follow his advice.
I returned to my shanty and observed the Sabbath in a way,
may it not be said of my worst enemy, O Lord!
“Now, Rabbi, today is again Thursday and, as usual, I ex-
pect to get no money from you, so my Sabbath will again be
ruined. I walked about racking my poor brains — whose ad-
vice should I follow — that of the Good Spirit, or that of the
Evil Spirit? And, as I was struggling within myself, who
should appear if not the Good Spirit!
“ ‘You see, Hershel!’ he cried, triumphantly. ‘A man has
got to be honest! You saw for yourself how it was possible
for you to celebrate the Sabbath without wicked thievery!’
“ ‘Indeed I did,’ I answered him tartly. ‘And what a
wretched Sabbath it was too! My family and I were so
famished we were almost ready to collapse, although it was
hardly a hair’s difference from what we usually feel every
day in the week. No, my good brother, rest assured I shan’t
194
THE HUMAN COMEDY
repeat that mistake twice. This coming week, praise God, I’ll
again follow the Evil Spirit’s advice!’
“The Good Spirit almost jumped out of his shoes.
“ ‘Once and for all, Hershel, don’t you dare steal!’ he cried.
“That, Rabbi, was about the last straw! I was going to
show him op, so I said to the Good Spirit, ‘If you are such a
saint, why don’t you go to the Rabbi and tell him he should
pay me my wages so I can celebrate God’s Sabbath together
with all other Jews?’
“So what do you think the Good Spirit answered?
“ ‘Believe me, Hershel,’ he assured me with tears in his
eyes. ‘Gladly would I do you this little favor, but I swear be-
fore God that I don’t know the rabbi at all. In fact, I’ve
never even crossed his threshold in all these many years!’ ”
HersheVs Revenge on the Women
As soon as Hershel Ostropolier went to serve Rabbi Boruch
of Miedziboz as his jester, he met with a hostile stare from the
rabbi’s wife. She found all sorts of petty pretexts to abuse
him. Once, when he tried to defend himself, she turned her
back on him insultingly and shut him up with the retort,
“Your excuses are making me deaf — you’re raising such a
racket with them!”
Hershel smarted under the abuse and lay low. Someday, he
vowed, he’d avenge the insult.
Some time soon after, the rabbi’s wife said to Hershel,
“Send your wife to me; it’s high time we got to know each
other.”
“With pleasure,” answered Hershel eagerly. “She’ll regard
it as a very great honor, believe me. But I must warn you —
may it not happen to a dog — she’s deaf as a wall! If you
want her to hear you you’ve got to shout.”
“I understand, I understand,” the rabbi’s wife assured him
commiseratingly. “Never fear. I’ll manage. Just have her
come to see me.”
When Hershel came home he said to his wife, that illustri-
ous shrew, “The rabbi’s wife told me she would like to get ac-
quainted with you. But, I’ve got to warn you betimes: she’s
stone deaf. If you want her to hear you you’ve got to shout.”
“I understand,” said Hershel’s wife knowingly, and went to
see the rabbi’s wife.
When the two women met they both began to shout and
DROLL CHARACTERS
195
scream at each other, ever louder and louder. Their cries
even reached into the rabbi’s study where he was closeted
with his disciples. Frightened out of his wits, the rabbi dashed
into his wife’s room, the disciples close at his heels. What the
rabbi saw was something he never forgot. Both women were
at the point of collapse. Their voices were hoarse, and their
cries sounded more like croaks.
“What’s the meaning of this?” cried the rabbi in astonish-
ment. “Why are you shouting this way?”
“Hershel’s wife is deaf,” gasped his wife. “I had to yell so
she could hear me.”
“And why do you shout?” asked the rabbi of Hershel’s
wife.
“What else should I do — your wife is stone deaf!” croaked
Hershel’s wife, her tongue hanging out.
“My wife stone deaf? You’re crazy, woman!” cried the
rabbi, beside himself with rage. “Who told you that?”
“Why Hershel did!”
All this while Hershel stood near the rabbi enjoying him-
self tremendously.
“Impudent fellow!” roared the rabbi. “Explain yourself in-
stantly. What kind of a prank is this anyway?”
“I am innocent, Rabbi,” pleaded Hershel.
“All right, so it’s my fault!” said the rabbi sarcastically.
“Blame your wife, Rabbi,” urged Hershel. “The other day
she was angry at me for some reason. I was entirely inno-
cent.”
Then, addressing the rabbi’s wife, Hershel continued, “Do
you remember that when I tried to explain you turned your
back on me and said: ‘You’re raising such a racket with your
excuses they’re making me deaf!’ Well, what did you ex-
pect— I shouldn’t believe you? Why should I have doubted
you? Also, was it wrong of me to give due warning to my
wife? If she spoke in a low voice you wouldn’t have heard a
thing. Besides, wouldn’t it have been highly inconsiderate of
her to do so?”
“But why did you tell me your wife was deaf?” rasped the
rabbi’s wife in a hoarse voice.
“What a foolish question!” retorted Hershel. “Imagine, if
after only a few months I made you deaf with my excuses,
how deaf do you think I’ve made my wife after being mar-
ried twenty years to her? Don’t either of you say I didn’t
warn you!”
THE HUMAN COMEDY
196
Reciprocity
Hershel Ostropolier was asked once, “Is it true, Hershel,
what people say — that you beat your wife with a stick and
she clouts you over the head with a rolling-pin?”
“That’s not altogether true,” answered Hershel. “Sometimes
we change over.”
How Hershel Almost Became a Bigamist
Hershel Ostropolier’s wife was nagging him to death.
“You’re a ne’er-do-well!” she cried. “You’re a schlimazl
and a fool, only you think you’re smart. If you didn’t speak
so impudently to the rabbi and to the gabbai and to all the
rich men of the town we wouldn’t be so badly off.”
When Hershel heard this he grew angry.
“You’re a nice one to preach at me!” he said bitterly.
“Why you’ve caused me more trouble than if you were ten
good-for-nothing relatives!”
“What on earth are you jabbering about?” asked his wife.
“Listen to this story and you’ll know,” began Hershel.
“Years ago, when I was still young and handsome, shortly af-
ter we had married, I was making a journey on foot. I never
was more tired and hungry than I was that day. On the way I
met another poor traveller.
“ ‘Uncle,’ I asked him, ‘do you know if there’s a Jewish set-
tlement nearby where some kindhearted person will take pity
on a footsore traveller and give him something to eat and a
place to sleep?’
“ ‘Indeed I do,’ replied the man. ‘Not far from here lives a
Jewish tenant-farmer. He is stuffed with money like a Pass-
over goose, but he won’t give a poor man a teaspoonful of
water. The only person welcome in his house is a marriage-
broker because his daughter is an ugly old maid, and he
would like to see her married at all costs.’
“When I heard this I went to call on the miser. I intro-
duced myself, not as a marriage-broker but as a virtuous
young man in search of a bride. Would you believe it, after
being wined and dined in his house for several days, he pro-
posed that I become his son-in-law!
“To make a long story short, I consented.”
“You miserable wretch!” interrupted Hershel’s wife. “How
DROLL CHARACTERS
197
could you have done a wicked thing like that with me being
your wife then?”
“Easy, easy!” cautioned Hershel. “Just listen patiently to
the end of my story.
“A day was fixed for the wedding to take place — in several
weeks. In the meantime, I lived in luxury, tasted everything
from honey to vinegar, and, when the wedding day arrived,
there was nothing left to do but to break down and tell the
truth. So I said to my bride’s father, ‘Listen, father dear,
since today is my wedding day, it is my duty to tell you ev-
erything about my family so that later on you shouldn’t have
any grievances against me.’
“ ‘I am listening,’ he said.
“ ‘I have a brother,’ I began, ‘and he is an immoral fellow.’
“ ‘What difference does it make?’ he answered, cold-blood-
edly.
“ ‘My sister-in-law is unfaithful to her husband.’
“ ‘If your brother doesn’t bother me, why should your sis-
ter-in-law?’
“ ‘I have two good-for-nothing uncles.’
“ That should be my biggest worry.'
“ ‘I have a sister and she has an illegitimate child.’
“ ‘What? An illegitimate child! Bad, bad! But what can we
do about it?’
“ ‘I assure you that in my family there are drunks, card-
players and libertines without number.’
“At this my bride’s father broke into a smile.
“ ‘What has that got to do with you?’ he asked. ‘All we
have to do is to take out the cow and bum the bam.’
“I saw I was in a desperate position, so I finally said, ‘But
dear father, I have a wife!’
“When he heard this he became livid with rage. He seized
me by the scruff of my neck and threw me out.
“I ask you — say yourself: doesn’t that prove that you are
worse than all the ten good-for-nothings in my family rolled
in one?”
Hershel as Coachman
Hershel’s wife clamored : “Money! Money!”
“I have no money,” he pleaded.
“You can tell that to your grandmother!” she retorted. “All
I know is that the children are hungry.”
198
THE HUMAN COMEDY
When Hershel heard this he became serious and arose
from his chair.
“Go to our next-door neighbor and borrow a whip,” he
said sternly to his oldest boy.
Hearing this, his wife began to tremble.
“God have mercy!” she thought with dismay. “Now he’s
going to give me a whipping!”
But this was farthest from Hershel’s mind. When his boy
brought him the whip he went into the market-place and
cracked it loudly in the air.
“I’m taking people to Letitshev for half fare!” he shouted.
“What a bargain!” people thought, and in a wink there
were eager customers.
Hershel collected money from them and gave it to his boy.
“Run home and give it to your mother,” he said.
“Where are the horses?” inquired his passengers as they
followed him down the road.
“Come along and don’t worry!” Hershel told them. “I’ll
take you right into Letitshev.”
So they followed him without further questions.
They had already left the town, but still no horses. In the
distance they saw the bridge. “No doubt the horses are at the
bridge,” they thought. But when they reached the bridge there
still were no horses. By this time they had already covered
half the distance. So they thought to themselves: “Very well,
this man is a swindler, but what good will it do us to turn
back now?”
Finally, they reached Letitshev.
“Return us our money, you thief!” they demanded of Her-
shel. “You fooled us!”
. “I fooled you?” laughed Hershel scornfully. “Answer me,
did I or did I not promise to take you to Letitshev?”
“Yes, but ride there, not walk!”
“Pfui!” snorted Hershel. “Did I ever say a word about
horses?”
The passengers looked at one another dumbfounded, and
since there was nothing they could do about it they spat out
in contempt and went away.
When Hershel got home his wife met him at the door,
beaming.
“I can’t understand, Hershel,” she said. “You had a whip,
but where on earth did you get the horses?”
“Don’t ask foolish questions!” Hershel laughed. “What do I
DROLL CHARACTERS
199
need horses for? You know the saying: ‘If you crack a whip
you can always find some horses.’ ”
The Poor Cow
One Sabbath afternoon Hershel Ostropolier stood at the win-
dow in the rabbi’s study looking outside.
“Rabbi,” he suddenly asked, “if one sees a cow drowning
oo the Sabbath — must one save her or let her drown?”
“Of course you can’t save her! It’s not allowedl What are
you looking at anyway?”
“Nothing! A cow fell into the lake.”
“What can one do?” sighed the rabbi. “The Torah forbids
it!”
“Just look!” cried Hershel. uAi-ai-ail Now the water is go-
ing over her head! It’s a pity on the poor dumb animal!”
“What can one do?”
“So you say, Rabbi, nothing can be done for her?”
“What concern is it of yours anyway?”
“Now I can no longer see the poor cow . . . she’s gone un-
der . . . drowned! A pity — a great pity!”
“What’s the matter with you, Hershel! Why are you lament-
ing so?”
“You’ll be sorry. Rabbi! I tell you — you’ll be sorry!”
“Why, in God’s name?”
“It’s your cow, Rabbi!”
A Perfect Fit
Hershel’s coat was falling to pieces. It was a disgrace, he
felt, to show himself in it before decent people. But what was
he to do? He didn’t have a broken kopek. Somehow he had
gotten wind of the fact that his wife had hidden a little pile, a
few groschen at a time.
Hershel began to daydream. . . .
“If I could only get that money out of her,” he said to
himself, “I’d have a new coat made.”
Shortly after, he climbed up the ladder to the garret. And,
as his wife was below, she was surprised to hear Hershel talk-
ing angrily to someone.
“With whom are you talking, Hershel?” she called up to
him.
“With whom do you think? With Destitution, of course,”
Hershel roared down from the garret.
200
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“How on earth did he get up there?”
“He says he got sick and tired of our dingy rooms and so,
for a change, he’s come up to the garret.”
“What does he want of you?”
“The Devil take him! He wants a new coat. He says if I'll
order a new coat for him he’ll move out of our house and
never come back.”
When Hershel climbed down from the garret his wife said
to him, “It would pay to make Destitution a new coat if we
can get rid of him that way.”
“You’re a smart one!” jeered Hershel. “If money grew on
trees we could make a sweet pudding of it!”
“I’ve put by a couple of groschen,” confessed Hershel’s
wife. “Here is the money, buy Destitution a coat, and then
we’ll tell him to go and break his hands and feet!”
As Hershel started to leave the house his wife called him
back.
“You’ve forgotten to take Destitution’s measure!”
Hershel nodded and went up again to the garret. When he
came down he said, “I don’t have to take his measure. He
and I are like two peas in a pod — not a hair’s difference.”
Hershel went to a tailor who took his measure for a new
coat. When it was completed he put it on, and under no cir-
cumstances would he take it off.
“Why don’t you take the coat off, Hershel?” pleaded his
wife. “If Destitution finds out that you are wearing his coat
he’ll get mighty angry and he’ll give it to us in the neck.”
“You’re right,” said Hershel, and, taking off his coat, he
went up to the garret.
After a little while he returned with the coat.
“Why didn’t you give him the coat?” his wife reproached
him.
“It’s no use!” said Hershel, downcast. “The coat doesn’t fit
him.”
“I thought you said there wasn’t a hair’s difference between
your measure and his.”
“True!” replied Hershel. “But that was before we spent
money on his new coat. Now that we’ve spent it we’re poorer
and Destitution has grown bigger!”
DROLL CHARACTERS
201
A Tooth for a Tooth
In the town was an upstart rich man — an ignoramus and a
boor. He had an only daughter who had nothing to recom-
mend her except her father’s money. Whatever match was
proposed for her the father would turn down.
“My daughter will marry only a man of good family!” he
said haughtily.
One day, made desperate by need, Hershel Ostropolier
came to him with a proposition.
“The youth I’m proposing for your daughter is a gem,” he
told the rich man. “He’s handsome, he’s learned in the Torah,
and he has a fine character.”
“Who is he?” asked the rich man, beaming with antici-
pation.
“Shmul, the cobbler’s son,” answered Hershel.
“You lout!” roared the rich man. “How dare you propose
such a match for my daughter! Out of my house this
minute!”
And he took Hershel by the scruff of his neck and the seat
of his pants and threw him out of the house.
Several days later, who should call on the same rich man
but Hershel!
“You here again!” shouted the rich man angrily. “I told
you not to show your face again here!”
“Don’t be angry,” began Hershel, mollifyingly. “I have a
first-class match for your daughter this time.”
The rich man became curious.
“Really?” he asked. “Who is it now?”
“None other but the rabbi’s son.”
The rich man leaped to his feet with delight.
“Wonderful! This is really unexpected!” he murmured.
“But tell me Hershel, my dear friend, were you already at the
rabbi’s? Did you talk to him about the matter yet?”
“What a question: ‘Was I there?’ Of course I already spoke
to the rabbi about it.”
‘Tell me! What did he say?” inquired the rich man ea-
gerly.
“What did he say? He said just what you said to me the
other day! ‘You lout! How dare you propose such a match
for my son! Out of my house this minute!’ And he took me
by the scruff of my neck and the seat of my pants and threw
me out!”
202 THE HUMAN COMEDY
What Hershel’s Father Did
Once Hershel Ostropolier stopped at an inn to spend the
night. There were no other guests at the time. The innkeeper
was away and only his wife was there to receive Hershel.
“I’m half dead with hunger,” Hershel told her. “Do give
me something to eat.”
Looking at his shabby clothes the woman thought to her-
self, “This man is a tramp. Why take a chance and feed
him?”
“I’m very sorry, my good man, but there isn’t a drop of
food in the house.”
“What? No food?” cried Hershel, jumping up.
For a moment he stood deep in thought. Then he mut-
tered, “In that case, I’m afraid I’ll have to do just what my
father did!”
When the innkeeper’s wife heard this she grew alarmed.
“What did your father do?” she asked, all a-tremble.
“Never mind, my father did what he did!” said Hershel,
ominously.
“What in heaven’s name could this man’s father have
done?” the innkeeper’s wife wondered. “It’s a bad business,
me all alone with him in the house. Who can tell — his father
may have been a murderer, and if he threatens to do what his
father did — good God . . . !”
Without a word she set the table and served Hershel all
manner of good things. Hershel was so hungry he ate like a
wolf. When he had finished he smacked his lips and said, “I
haven’t eaten such a good dinner since Passover!”
Seeing that the stranger was in a good mood the woman
asked timidly, “Be so good and tell me — what was it that
your father did!”
“Oh, my father?” replied Hershel innocently. “Whenever
my father didn’t have any supper he went to bed without it.”
Gilding the Lily
“Hershel,” said a rich man to the celebrated pauper-wag, “if
you’ll tell me a lie without thinking, I’ll give you one ruble.”
“What do you mean one ruble — you just said two!”
When Hershel Eats
In a certain village lived a rich man. He was stingy and hard-
hearted, but he was also clever and knew how to conceal his
DROLL CHARACTERS
203
corruption. Those who didn’t know him even got the im-
pression that he was kind-hearted. On the Sabbath he would
invite some poor traveller to his table, but woe to the unwary
victim who fell into his clutches!
As a mark of honor he would place the wretch at the head
of the table. Then the cat-and-mouse play began. He would
ply the stranger with innumerable questions so that out of po-
liteness he’d have to answer them. This gave him no oppor-
tunity to eat. In the meantime his host was enjoying both his
food and his own cunning. To add insult to injury, when
practically nothing was left on the table the host would turn
with solicitude to his guest and upbraid him gently, “Why
didn’t you eat? Why did you talk so much?”
What was the poor man to do? He had to thank his host
like a hypocrite and go to bed hungry.
Once it chanced that Hershel Ostropolier arrived in this
village. Hearing of the queer ways of this rich man and his
tricks, he decided to take revenge on him for all the poor un-
fortunates he had maltreated.
When Friday night arrived Hershel asked the shammes of
the synagogue to arrange that he be invited to this rich man’s
house as his Sabbath guest. The shammes even tried to dis-
suade him from the step.
“Take my word for it,” he said, “this rich man is wicked.”
But Hershel insisted. So the shammes made the necessary
arrangements for his visit.
After the Friday night service in the synagogue Hershel
went home with the rich man. When they sat down to supper
his host seated him in the place of honor, introduced him to
the members of his household and showed him marked atten-
tion. After they all had recited the blessings over the wine the
servants brought in a tureen of fish. Its aroma made the al-
ready hungry Hershel even hungrier.
The head of the household first stuck his fork into a fine
portion of gefillte fish and put it on his plate. Then, as if ab-
sent-minded, he didn’t pass the tureen to Hershel but kept it
near himself. He fell into a revery.
“From where do you come, uncle?” he asked.
“From Vishnitz,” answered Hershel, mentioning a name at
random.
“From Vishnitz? Then surely you must know Shaiah the
miller! How is he? What’s he doing?”
“Shaiah the miller?” echoed Hershel. “He died.”
204
THE HUMAN COMEDY
Thereupon, without any further ceremony, Hershel extend-
ed his arm across the table and stuck his fork into a large
portion of fish which he put on his plate. He fell to and ate
with zest.
But his host was flabbergasted at what Hershel had told
him. He turned pale and put down his fork.
“Did you hear, Malke?” he cried incredulously to his wife.
“My old friend Shaiah is dead! Why didn’t his wife let me
know? I wonder what will happen to his fortune — he must
have left a nice little pile! But tell me — how is Velvel?”
“Which Velvel?”
“Why Shaiah’s eldest son, you know, the one who runs the
inn in Vishnitz.”
“Oh, you mean Velvel who runs the inn? He died too!”
said Hershel in a matter-of-fact voice, spearing another piece
of fish.
“Velvel died?” cried the rich man incredulously. “Did you
hear, Malke — Velvel died! Woe is me. He owes me five
hundred rubles! But tell me how is Velvel’s partner, Yoshe
the vintner? Is he running the inn now?”
“No!” sighed Hershel, chewing away at the fish. “He also
died.”
“What! Yoshe the vintner is also dead! Woe is us, Malke!
My money is lost!”
And as the rich man continued to rave and get excited
Hershel went on eating calmly, smiling into his beard.
“Uncle,” the rich man finally ventured with trepidation,
“maybe you know what Shaiah’s brother, Avrum the dry-
goods merchant, is doing?”
“What Avrum?” asked Hershel innocently, almost choking
on a mouthful of delicious white chaleh.
“Why, don’t you know — Avrum the dry-goods merchant!
He lives near the lake, in the big white house!”
“Oh, he? I knew him well,” answered Hershel. “He’s dead
too!”
“Have you gone out of your head, uncle?” shrieked the
rich man in an unearthly voice, jumping up from his chair.
“Surely, you don’t mean to tell me that everybody in Vishnitz
died?”
“My dear friend,” drawled Hershel in his nasal way, “when
I eat, everybody is as good as dead for me! But say, my good
host, you’ve been so busy talking you’ve forgotten to eat!
Know what? Your gefillte fish is really first rate!”
DROLL CHARACTERS
205
Hershel as Wine-Doctor
At a time when the grape crop failed, the wine dealer of the
town began to skin his customers alive. “I don’t need any
customers!” he said haughtily. ‘‘I can afford to wait for my
price!”
Because of his attitude the townfolk had to go without
wine, and so they thirsted for revenge.
“Just you wait!” Hershel Ostropolier said to them. “I’ll
teach this wretch such a lesson that he’ll remember his grand-
mother!”
Hershel borrowed some good clothes in order to look re-
spectable and, accompanied by the young men of the town,
he went to call on the wine-seller. His companions waited out-
side as he entered.
“Good morning!” began Hershel. “Allow me to introduce
myself. I am a well-known wine-maker from Lemberg. I can
make good wine out of bad and better wine out of good.”
The wine-seller was overjoyed.
“Are you staying long in town?”
“No, just passing through. I wanted to see how the wine
business was in these parts.”
“I’ll be much obliged to you, young man, if you’ll teach
me how to improve my wine.”
“With the greatest of pleasure!” answered Hershel. ‘Take
me down to your cellar and I’ll teach you.”
So they went down into the wine-cellar. Out of his trav-
elling bag Hershel took a drill and bored a hole in one barrel.
He stuck his finger in the hole, then moistened his lips with
it.
“Not bad,” he wagged his head, judiciously, like an expert.
“Be so good as to put your finger into this hole while I taste
the wine in the next barrel.”
The wine-seller did as he was told.
Hershel then bored a hole in the next barrel, tasted the
wine and smacked his lips.
“Not bad!” he said judiciously. “Please be good enough to
stop up this hole with a finger of your other hand.”
The wine-seller did as he was told. And, when he had both
hands thus occupied, Hershel called to his companions. Real-
izing that he had been trapped the profiteer became livid with
rage.
206
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“You rogue!” he cried. “I’ll have you thrown into prison
for this!”
“Just see how well he holds on to his wine,” said Hershel
gleefully. “We’ll let him hold on this way all night, just to
teach him not to be such a pig!”
The Feast
Hershel Ostropolier found himself travelling in a stage
coach with a company of Hasidim. These were upstart rich
men who had a lot of fun making sport of Hershel. He didn’t
enjoy their fun at all, but held his peace, thinking: “Just you
wait, you rascals! My name isn’t Hershel for nothing! Make
sport of me to your hearts’ content — you’ll pay for it dearly.”
“Hershel!” one of the company suddenly called out ‘Wou
owe us a feast!”
“I owe you a feast? What miracle has happened?”
“You were appointed jester to the rabbi some time ago,
and we haven’t yet had a chance to drink on it.”
“A feast, a feast!” cried the others.
“I haven’t any money.”
“Sell your clothes then. Pawn your wife’s pearls! But make
a feast for us.”
“But my wife has no pearls.”
“What do you mean, your wife has no pearls! Buy them
for her and then pawn them!”
Seeing that he was in a hole Hershel agreed reluctantly
saying, “You’re right! I owe you a feast and I’ll pay up.”
So they continued on their journey. Towards noon they
came to an inn. The Hasidim were hungry and wanted to
stop there. But Hershel didn’t want to go in with them.
“I owe the innkeeper some money,” he said. “And I can’t
pay him now.”
The Hasidim laughed and gave him the following instruc-
tions. You, Hershel, ride ahead with the carriage. We’ll eat
and rest awhile and later on we’ll catch up with vou at the
inn in the next village.”
Hershel did as they suggested, and in three hours’ time he
reached the next inn. Before entering he took his Sabbath
gabardine out of his travelling bag. Looking important he
le.nt/UP *? *e ^eper, extended his hand with a loud
Shalom ateichem!” and said, “Know that in a short while a
large carriage will arrive with a company of rich people.
DROLL CHARACTERS
207
They sent me ahead to give you the message — that you.
should prepare the finest gefillte fish, the fattest geese, and the
most expensive wines. Prepare everything with generosity.
There’s absolutely no question about money! Only hurry, be-
cause they’ll soon be here.”
“And what, if I may ask, is the reason for this celebra-
tion?” asked the innkeeper.
Hershel answered without hesitation, “Several days ago,
while passing through the forest, they were waylaid by a gang
of robbers. But they came out of the business unscathed.
Therefore, they’re making this feast in thanksgiving.”
The innkeeper told his wife the good news, and in a wink
everybody became feverishly busy, cooking, scouring and
cleaning as one would, expecting important guests. Hershel
requested that the place be brightened festively. So they lit
many candles.
When the Hasidim neared the inn they saw Hershel run-
ning towards them. At first they were frightened.
“Why do you run all out of breath, Hershel?” they asked.
“What has happened?”
“God is good!”
“What! Have you found a treasure?”
“You wanted a feast, didn’t you? Well, the good Lord has
arranged it. There, in that inn, they’ve already been celebrat-
ing for a week. Every Jewish traveller who passes by is
obliged to stop here and feast with the innkeeper without
paying one kopek.”
“The innkeeper is crazy!” the Hasidim agreed among
themselves.
“Why is he crazy?” protested Hershel. “There’s a whole
story to it. A week ago a gang of robbers waylaid the inn-
keeper as he was passing through a dark forest. Because he
escaped without a scratch the innkeeper is celebrating this
way in thanksgiving to God. It would be a sin, believe me, to
let such a fine feast get away from us! Remember though,
don’t mention a word about money! You’ll only embarrass
the innkeeper.”
This story pleased the Hasidim so they drew up before the
inn and entered.
Everybody could see that Hershel had told the whole truth.
The inn was beautifully illuminated as though for a feast.
The tables were set with all good things. The innkeeper and
his wife were dressed in their Sabbath best. Without hesita-
208
THE HUMAN COMEDY
tion the Hasidim seated themselves and began to make
merry. The innkeeper almost crawled out of his skin to please
his guests. The Hasidim gorged themselves. They sang and
they even danced in a circle.
Thus the night passed.
Just at the point of daybreak the door of the inn was
thrown wide open and the driver of the carriage in which the
Hasidim had come stormed in.
“It’s high time to leave!” he announced. “And I’m not go-
ing to wait a minute longer!”
When Hershel heard this he stole out of the inn. Barely
able to stand on their legs, the Hasidim staggered out and be-
gan to climb into the carriage. Seeing this, the innkeeper ran
up and held on to the horses.
“I won’t let you go until you pay me!” he cried.
Everybody began to shout at the same time, and no one
knew what anybody was saying. The shock of the news al-
most sobered up the Hasidim. Blazing with anger they said to
the innkeeper, “How dare you demand payment of us? Her-
shel distinctly told us that you were inviting every passerby to
a feast of thanksgiving because you were saved from a gang
of robbers in the woods last week.”
“That’s a lie!” raged the innkeeper. “Hershel told me dis-
tinctly that it was you who escaped unscathed from a gang of
robbers and that’s why you were sending him with a message
to me that I should prepare a feast of thanksgiving for you.
A fine bunch of robbers you are yourselves, you pious hypo-
crites! On my word as a Jew, if you don’t pay up immedi-
ately I’ll have you arrested and sent to prison!”
And the Hasidim paid.
The Way to Die
Hershel Ostropolier, the famous jester, died as he had
lived — with a joke on his lips.
When Rabbi Boruch and his disciples stood around Her-
shel s bed and listened to him making sport of everything and
everybody they were filled with wonder.
“Haven’t you done enough ridiculing in your life without
having to do so on your deathbed?” the rabbi rebuked him
sternly. “Aren’t you afraid of Hell?”
“Never fear,” replied the dying Hershel, “I’ll joke myself
out of there, too!”
DROLL CHARACTERS
209
“For instance?” asked the rabbi.
“If the Angel of Death asks me whether I devoted my days
and nights to the study of the Torah, I’ll answer: ‘If you
think I’m not a scholar don’t make me your son-in-law.’ If he
asks me what my name is — I’ll tell him: ‘Getzel.’ Naturally,
he’ll get angry. ‘What’s the idea, your name is Hershel!’ So
I’ll tell him: ‘Since you know, why do you ask?’ And if he
asks me: ‘What have you accomplished in life? Have you
mended anything that was wrong in the world?’ I’ll answer:
‘Mended? Surely, I mended — I mended my socks, my shirt,
my pants. . . .’ ”
A little later, when the members of the Burial Society ar-
rived, Hershel said to them with his dying breath, “Remem-
ber, my friends, when you lift me up to lay me in my coffin
be sure not to hold me under the arm-pits. I’ve always been
very ticklish there!”
And so, with a smile on his lips, Hershel breathed his last.
Fools and Simpletons
Introduction
Laughing at the absurdities of fools is one of the oldest diver-
sions of mankind. There is within all of us a deep-seated psycho-
logical drive to achieve self-elevation by means of disparaging
others whom we are pleased to consider less bright than our-
selves. A fool, of course, is always the other fellow, never our-
selves.
There are a great number of ancient and modern Jewish say-
ings that refer disdainfully to fools: “It is better to hear the re-
buke of the wise than for a man to hear the song of fools. . . .
For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of a
fool. ... A fool’s voice is known by a multitude of words. . . .
It is better to lose to a wise man than to win from a fool. . . .
Never show half -finished work to a fool.”
However, there is still another tradition about fools. It, on the
contrary, is not scornful but understanding and compassionate,
and springs from the ethical values of the folk who keep in mind
the admonitions of the Prophet Jeremiah: “Let not the wise man
glory in his wisdom.” This attitude is derived from the precept of
humility taught in Israel since the days of the Prophets and the
sages. This is trenchantly pointed in the saying: “All wise people
act foolishly sometimes.”
There is a whimsical little story in the Talmud about a man
210
THE HUMAN COMEDY
who had left a will stipulating: “My son shall not receive his in-
heritance until he becomes foolish.” The rabbinical judges were
confounded by this clause. What on earth could it mean? So they
decided to call on the astute Rabbi Joshua ben Korha (2nd Cen-
tury a.d.) in order to ask his advice in the matter.
When they entered the rabbi’s house they drew back in amaze-
ment. There, on the floor, crawling on all fours was Rabbi
Joshua! With a cord in his mouth and his little son astride him,
he was playing the time-honored game of “horsie.”
When Rabbi Joshua regained his dignity and listened to the
rabbis’ question about the will he could not contain his mirth:
“My Masters,” he laughed, “I have given you a concrete illustra-
tion of your case. Know that everyone becomes foolish as soon as
he has children!”
During the Middle Ages, when “The Fool in Christ” became a
cherished belief of the Christian mystics, the Jews did not remain
unaffected by it. There are stories about the Lamed-Vav-Tzad-
dikim, the Thirty-Six Hidden Saints, that carry this theme in
modified form and in characteristic Jewish garb. There is a strik-
ing similarity between them and the Christian tales about saintly
fools, and even with modern literary treatments of these folktales,
such as Tolstoy’s moral stories about “holy fools” and the “holy
simpleton” tale, Fra Giovanni, by Anatole France.
There is no body of humorous folk-literature more widely dis-
seminated among Yiddish-speaking Jews than the stories about
the fools (or “sages” as they are scoffingly called) of Chelm.
There are, of course, fools and fools, but in the Jewish folk-fancy
the fools of Chelm represent the ne plus ultra in simpletons. They
have even entered into the Yiddish language. When a Jew refers
to a pretentious foolish person, likely as not he will say of bim
ironically: “Just look at him — a regular Chelmer chochem."
What is Chelm? It is a real town in Poland, like Gotham in
England and Schildburg in Germany. These three towns have one
thing in common — for some unaccountable reason they were
elected in irreverent folklore to serve as the centers of all inno-
cent stupidity. The historical origin of the foolish stories about
the inhabitants of all three places is closely linked. Which of
them came first chronologically is like debating which came
first — the chicken or the egg. However, we do know one fact,
that the tales about the fools of Schildburg were translated in
1597 from the German into Yiddish, and enjoyed enormous popu-
larity in central and eastern Europe.
Whether there already existed before that time a body of hu-
morous Yiddish stories about the fools of Chelm, we have no
way of knowing. It is reasonable, though, to conjecture that,
prior to that time, there must have been in circulation among
DROLL CHARACTERS
211
Jews many jokes about fools but there was no unifying peg on
which to hang them. Conceivably, the Schildburger tales may
have served as a model for the adoption of Chelm as a town of
Jewish fools. Since then many a story about fools has con-
veniently been ascribed to the inhabitants of Chelm.
The Chelm stories have their own flavor and coloration, differ-
ing considerably from the Schildburg and Gotham stories. They
not only have Jewish settings and, to some extent, are an index to
Jewish character, customs and manners, but they also possess
many facets of Jewish irony and wit. Unquestionably, they consti-
tute an original body of folk-humor.
N.A.
What Makes a Fool
A fool went to the rabbi and said: “I know I’m a fool.
Rabbi, but I don’t know what to do about it. Please advise
me what to do.”
“Ah, my son!” exclaimed the rabbi, in a complimentary
way. “If you know you’re a fool, then you surely are no
fool!”
“Then why does everybody say I’m a fool?” complained
the man.
The rabbi regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.
“If you yourself don’t understand that you’re a fool," he
chided him, “but only listen to what people say, then you
surely are a fool!”
Some of the Nicest People
A Jew came to his rabbi to lodge a complaint against other
members of the congregation.
“Rabbi,” he asked plaintively, “do you think it right of
them to call me a fool?”
The rabbi listened with sympathy.
“Why get upset by such a trifle!” he consoled him. “Do
you think fools are so very different from other people? Be-
lieve me, some of the nicest people I’ve ever known were
fools. Why, even a fine, intelligent man like you could be
one!”
212 THE HUMAN COMEDY
Why Waste Money?
Once there was a nitwit, and he could not be trusted with
anything from here to there. Naturally, he was a source of
grief to his parents. But what could they do, poor people — he
was their own flesh and blood!
One day his mother said to him, “Motkele, my son, here is
a ruble! Go to market and buy a hen for me. But remember,
hold tight to the ruble and don’t lose it.”
Motkele promised faithfully and went to market. But on
his return his mother almost fainted. Motkele had brought
back a jug filled with water!
“Motkele, my son, what on earth have you done?” she
cried. “Didn’t I ask you to buy a hen? What’s this water for?”
“Don’t be angry with me, mother!” pleaded Motkele. “Let
me tell you what happened. I went to market to buy a hen,
as you told me to. When I asked the poultry woman to sell
me a hen she said: ‘I want you to know that this is no mere
hen — it’s heavenly chicken-fat!’ When I heard her praise
chicken-fat so I knew that chicken-fat must be better than a
hen, so I went to buy chicken-fat. I asked the butcher for
some chicken-fat. He said to me: ‘This is no mere chicken-
fat — it’s as clear as oil!’ I understood then that oil must be
better than chicken-fat. So I went into a shop and asked for
oil, and the shopkeeper said: “This is no mere oil! You can
see it’s pure as water!’ When I heard that water was better
than oil, I said to myself: ‘What’s the use of wasting a good
ruble?’ So I got the pitcher and filled it with pure water, and
here I am!”
Philosophy with Noodles
Once a proposal of marriage was brought to a young man
who was simple-minded. Poor fellow! He had no idea how to
behave in the company of others. And so, in order to save
him from embarrassment, his father, who was a man of the
world, cautioned him as follows:
“When you visit the bride for the first time you no doubt
will not know what to talk to her about. Therefore, if you
want to make a good impression on her, here’s my advice.
First, begin talking about love. Then you can touch on family
affairs. You can wind up with a little philosophy.”
The groom nodded gravely and replied that he understood
perfectly well how he was to behave. Then, with his father’s
DROLL CHARACTERS
213
blessings, he went off to make his first call on his intended.
At first he felt great constraint because the girl’s parents
were present, but when they left from motives of delicacy, he
relaxed somewhat. Then, remembering his father’s counsel, he
suddenly asked the girl, “Do you love noodles?”
“Sure,” she answered in surprise. “Why shouldn’t I love
noodles?”
After a moment of silence, he continued, “Do you have a
brother?”
“No, I have no brother.”
The groom rejoiced — he had safely weathered his father’s
first two instructions, had talked about love and family mat-
ters. Now he still had to philosophize a bit.
“Kaleh,” he asked, furrowing his brow, “if you had a
brother, would he have loved noodles?”
Surplus
In any Jewish village of old Russia a Gentile could earn
small sums on the Sabbath and holy days by performing cer-
tain duties for orthodox Jews that were forbidden to them by
their religion.
On a train, Yoshke the luftmensch, from a tiny village, was
sitting next to a Jew from Kharkov.
In the course of the inevitable conversation Yoshke stated
with pride, “Our town is quite a town. We have five hundred
Jews and fifty Gentiles. How big is your town?”
“In our town we have a hundred thousand Jews,” said the
man from Kharkov bluntly.
Yoshke was overwhelmed. “Unbelievable!” he said. “How
many Gentiles have you?”
“About a million.”
“A million! What do you need so many Gentiles for?”
If It Were Anyone Else
“Doctor, I need help,” complained a patient. “I talk to my-
self.”
“Do you suffer pain?” asked the doctor.
“No, no pain.”
“Well,” said the doctor, “then go home, don’t worry. Mil-
lions of people talk to themselves. . . .”
“But, doctor,” cried the patient, “you don’t know what a
nudnik I am!”
214 the human comedy
It’s Terrible
In a hot, dusty train unequipped with the luxury of water an
old Jew sat opposite a stranger in the cramped seats.
“Oy,” said the old man for about the ninetieth time, “am I
thirsty!”
The stranger twitched with irritation.
“What a terrible thirst I have!” the old man repeated
hoarsely.
Again the stranger’s nerves tensed.
“Oy, am I thirsty!” again exclaimed the old man.
Just then the train stopped at a station. The stranger has-
tened into the station, obtained a cup of water, and returned.
Thrusting it at the old man he cried, “Here, drink!”
“Thank you,” said the old man, and drank.
As the train started up again the stranger settled back to
enjoy the peace. But in a moment the quiet was shattered by
a mighty sigh.
“Oy, did I have a thirst!”
Making It Easy
Every afternoon Herr Gutman went to play pinochle with
several cronies at the Cafe Schlagobers in Vienna. One after-
noon, as he sat playing, he suddenly fell forward; he had died
from a stroke.
His cronies decided to send the dead man’s bosom com-
panion, Herr Lubin, to break the news to the poor widow.
Guten Tag, Herr Lubin,” Frau Gutman greeted her unex-
pected visitor. “How are things?”
“How should they be? Fine.”
“Have you seen my husband?”
“I have.” **
“In the Cafe, no doubt?”
“Where else?”
“No doubt he played pinochle?”
“What else?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he lost all his money!”
“Who else’s money would he lose?”
“What! He lost his money? May he be struck dead, the
good-for-nothing !”
Yc*u. see, Frau Gutman,” cried Herr Lubin, overjoyed.
That’s just what I’ve come to see you about!”
DROLL CHARACTERS
215
THE WISDOM OF CHELM
The Mistake
The rabbi of Chelm and one of his Talmud students were
spending the night at the inn. The student asked the servant
to wake him at dawn because he was to take an early train.
The servant did so. Not wishing to wake the rabbi, the
student groped in the dark for his clothes and, in his haste,
he put on the long rabbinical gabardine. He hurried to the
station, and, as he entered the train, he was struck dumb with
amazement as he looked at himself in the compartment mir-
ror.
“What an idiot that servant is!” he cried angrily. “I asked
him to wake me, instead he went and woke the rabbi!”
The Golden Shoes
The citizens of Chelm met in council and decided that for a
community like theirs, so renowned for its wisdom, it was
only fitting that it should have a Chief Sage. So they elected -a
Chief Sage. But to their dismay, nobody seemed to pay any
attention to him when he walked out on the street, for he
looked like any other ordinary Chelm citizen.
So they bought him a pair of golden shoes.
“Now everybody will know that he is the Chief Sage!” they
said.
The first day the Chief Sage put on his golden shoes a deep
mud lay on the streets. In no time at all the mud covered the
shoes and it was impossible to see that they were golden.
Therefore nobody knew it was the Chief Sage. No attention
was paid to him.
The Chief Sage did not like to be ignored that way so he
went to complain to the Council of Sages.
“If I don’t get some respect quickly I’ll resign!” he
threatened.
“You’re perfectly right!” the Council agreed. “We’re going
to do something drastic about it! The dignity of our Chief
Sage must be protected!”
They therefore ordered for him a pair of fine leather shoes
to wear over the golden shoes. True enough, when the Chief
Sage went out upon the street the leather shoes protected the
golden shoes from the mud, but since no one got a glimmer
216
THE HUMAN COMEDY
23V0lde“ s^oes> how could they tell it was the Chief
Sage? So again they paid no attention to him.
beini ST86/’ CFieud ?e Chief Sage- “What’s the use of
De Sage lf everybody ignores you?”
“Trus?nILii®StrabSOlUle-ly right!” agreed the Council,
trust us— we 11 do everything to protect your dignity.”
s W /r°m the shoemaker a new pair of leather
shoes for the Chief Sage. These were to have holes in them.
“ to®7 wouId Protect the golden shoes against the
a°d at th® same time would reveal them. Everybody
would thus be able to recognize the Chief Sage. *
,, Unfortunately, this plan, too, miscarried. The mud went
£Tgh ? 5 a"d mired the S°Wen shoes as well as the
was Ae cS Iberti°re’ “2“ nobody had any inkIing that it
fJr? Crhief Sage they Paid no attention to him, as usual.
This is an outrage!” cried the Chief Sage. “I’m humiliated
at,dwi?n 1 W°n t be able to sbow my face on the street!”
When you are mortified we are mortified too!” the
abouth ”ODSOed him' “Never fear> we shall do something
strSeTn^n,ti!he^ StUffed thC h°leS in his ,eather shoes with
sS'Jnt’ ,e,StraW prevented the mud from entering the
shoes but the old trouble was still there— nobody could get a
gimmer of the golden shoes. And again the Chief Sage
passed ignored. This was the last straw!
-„S° theJa®f? of Chelm went into solemn council, once for
atinn tl6tt e the matte.r‘ And> after long and heated deliber-
ation^ they emerged triumphantly with a solution
on ttDster f *hey t0,d the Chi6f Sage’ “you walk out
on the street wearing ordinary leather shoes, but, in order
that everybody might know that you are the Chief Sage you
will wear the golden shoes one on each hand!”
The Chelm Goat Mystery^
<?helm °nce feI1 gravely sick. While he could
dowp T?*? f°L°therS’ he refused t0 use his supernatural
powers for himself— such a saint he was! So they had to do
the next best thing and call the doctor.
the holy man and shook his head.
Bad, bad! he muttered to the rebbitzen. “There’s onlv
one thing that can help him— a steady supply of fresh goat’s
DROLL CHARACTERS
217
milk. But for this you’ve got to own a goat. My advice to you
is: buy a goat.”
So the rebbitzen asked two of the rabbi’s disciples to go to
the next village and buy a good nanny goat at a reasonable
price.
“Trust us!” cried the disciples. “We’ll bring you the best
goat in goatland!”
So they went to the next village and bought a white nanny
goat.
“Are you sure it’s a good nanny goat?” the disciples asked
the dealer, just to make sure.
“Is it a good nanny goat?” cried the dealer offended.
“Why, it gushes milk like a fountain!”
Delighted with their purchase, the disciples started for
home, leading the goat by a rope.
“With such an animal the rabbi will surely get well!” they
rejoiced.
On the way they came to an inn. Already in high spirits
the disciples said, “Let’s drink to the health of our rabbi and
his nanny goat!”
So, after tying their goat to a post in the stable, they went
into the inn and ordered some drinks.
Made talkative by the schnapps they began to boast be-
fore the innkeeper.
“Some goat we’ve just bought for our rabbi! It’s positively
the best goat in goatland — it gushes milk like a fountain!
There isn’t another like it in Chelm!”
You don’t say so!” replied the innkeeper with amazement.
Now this innkeeper was an irreverent rogue; he had a
hearty dislike for wonder-working rabbis as well as for all the
people of Chelm. Therefore, he plotted a mischievous prank
against the rabbi’s disciples. While they were merrily celebrat-
ing, he quietly slipped out into the stable. He untied the won-
derful white nanny goat they had bought and in its place he
tied his own white billy-goat.
When the disciples had sobered up a bit they paid the inn-
keeper, untied their goat, and continued on their homeward
journey. ,
They arrived in Chelm toward nightfall. In their eagerness
to show off their purchase they ran to the rabbi’s house, with
the goat galloping behind them and a crowd of curious chil-
dren trotting after the goat. When they reached the rabbi’s
218
THE HUMAN COMEDY
house the disciples called, “Rebbitzen, quick, come out and
look at the wonderful goat we bought for you!”
“Really a fine goat!” said the rebbitzen, judiciously. “The
question is, does she give a lot of milk?”
“Don’t ask — just milk her and you’ll see for yourself!” said
the disciples, beaming.
The rebbitzen went for a stool and a pot and sat down to
milk. She tried and tried but no milk came.
“May such a misfortune happen to my enemies!” she burst
out angrily. “What kind of a goat did you buy? She doesn’t
give a drop!”
“Don’t be so hasty, rebbitzen,” they implored her. “The
Torah says specifically: ‘Everything has to be done with
knowledge and with understanding.’ Since you have never
owned a goat before let’s call in a goat expert.”
So they called in a goat expert, who took one look at the
goat and he cried out in surprise, “This is no nanny goat!
This is a billy-goat!”
The disciples grew bitter.
“That enemy of Israel!” they cried, referring to the dealer
in goats. “Tomorrow we’ll take this wretched beast back to
him and tell him a thing or two for this swindle.”
Early the next morning the disciples, boiling with anger,
started out with the goat. Again they passed the wayside inn.
“Let’s go in and cheer ourselves up with a drink,” one sug-
gested. “After all, we don’t have to make ourselves miserable
on account of a flea-bitten goat!”
So, after tying the goat in the stable, they went into the inn
and ordered drinks.
“What kind of a swindle do you suppose that dog of a goat
dealer put over on us?” they said to the innkeeper. “Gave us
a billy instead of a nanny!”
“Tsk, tsk!” exclaimed the innkeeper commiseratingly. “The
trouble with you scholars is that you’re so unworldly. You be-
lieve everything you’re told. Why don’t you keep your eyes
open when you buy something?”
To drown their humiliation the disciples drank heavily and,
while they were at it, the innkeeper went quietly into the
stable, removed his own billy and in its place he tied the
nanny that he had taken from the disciples the day before.
Through with their drinking, the disciples untied their goat
and departed.
“Enemy of Israel!” they called out with rage when they
DROLL CHARACTERS 219
saw the goat-dealer. “Don’t think you can swindle honest
folk so easily!”
“What’s wrong, what’s wrong?” murmured the dealer in
confusion.
“What’s wrong? You said you sold us a nanny! And what
do you suppose we found when we got home — a billy!”
“I swear, you’re crazy!” cried the dealer as he took but one
look at the goat.
“Malke!” he called to his wife. “Just milk this nanny for
these fine scholars!”
The woman brought a stool and a pot and began to milk
the goat. The disciples stood by, their eyes popping out of
their heads. There, right before their very eyes, the goat was
streaming milk like a fountain, just as the dealer had told
them she would!
“Nu, schlemihls, are you satisfied now?” he asked scorn-
fully.
Muttering their apologies the rabbi’s disciples took their
goat and started for home.
Elated, they burst into song. When they passed the inn
again one said, “Now we should really celebrate! Our goat is
some gusher!”
Into the inn they went and ordered a big bottle of
schnapps and, while they were drinking to the health of the
rabbi and the goat, sure enough that rascal of an innkeeper
stole away and once more exchanged the goats.
Unsuspectingly the happy disciples returned home. But the
same thing happened this time as before. When the rebbitzen
sat down to milk the goat she discovered it was a billy!
“There’s witchcraft in this!” cried the disciples horrified.
“With our own eyes we saw the dealer’s wife milk this goat.
We must tell the whole story to the rabbi!”
Breathlessly they went to the sick rabbi and told him all
that had happened.
“It’s clear to me that the dealer is a swindler,” was the
rabbi’s judicious opinion. “There’s only one thing left for you
to do. Return immediately to the dealer with the goat and
summon him to Rabbi Shmul in his town. Demand a signed
document from the rabbi that the goat you finally leave with
is a nanny and not a billy.”
The following day, bright and early, the disciples started
out again with the goat. As they had done every time before
they went into the inn to cheer themselves up. When he
220
THE HUMAN COMEDY
heard their story the innkeeper said, “You’re a bunch of
schlemihlsl If your goat dealer had played a trick on me like
that I’d have broken every bone in his body!”
“Never fear!” promised the disciples. “We’ll fix him so he’ll
see his dead grandmother!”
And, while they were drinking to give themselves courage
for the final encounter with the goat-dealer, the sly innkeeper
again exchanged the goats.
The disciples left in high spirits to call on the dealer.
“Swindler!” they cried. “Do you expect us to spend the rest
of our lives travelling from Chelm to your cursed village with
this miserable animal? Here’s your goat. Now show us, before
we make you join your dead grandmother, how much millr
you can squeeze out of your gusher!”
Without a word the dealer sat down and milked the ani-
mal.
The disciples looked on stunned. They could hardly believe
their eyes. The milk was pouring into the pot in a foaming
stream.
“To your rabbi! Take us to your rabbi!” they now de-
manded. “We want a document from him that this is a genu-
ine nanny!”
The goat-dealer shrugged his shoulders disdainfully and
went with them to the rabbi who carefully examined the goat
and pronounced it a nanny. He gave them a signed and
sealed document attesting to that effect.
Now the disciples were certain that all their troubles were
over, so they started for home in a merry mood. To crown
their triumph they again went into the inn for a round of
drinks. Once more the innkeeper exchanged the goats.
When the disciples reached the rabbi’s house, they cried
joyfully, "Rebbitzen! Just come out and see! It’s a genuine
nanny this time. Here you have Rabbi Shmul’s written word
for it!”
Eagerly the rebbitzen ran for her pot and stool and sat
down to milk the goat. With a cry she leaped up and
screamed, “Numskulls! Lunatics! What sort of game do you
think you’re playing with me?”
She then made them go with her to the rabbi’s room.
“Here you have Rabbi Shmul’s document!” cried the disci-
ples in bewilderment. ‘Tell us, what does all this mean? Do
you perhaps see the Evil Eye in it, Rabbi?”
“Bring me my spectacles!” ordered the rabbi.
DROLL CHARACTERS 221
They brought him his spectacles. He put them on and care-
fully read Rabbi Shmul’s document.
For a long time the rabbi sat deliberating, his brow fur-
rowed, his eyes far away. Then he spoke, “This is my opin-
ion: Rabbi Shmul is a wise and upright man. He never writes
anything that is not true. If he tells us that the goat is a
nanny you can rest assured that it is not a billy. Now, you
will ask: how is it that the goat he tells us is a nanny turns
out to be a billy? The answer is very simple: true, the goat he
examined and testified to was a nanny. But such is the con-
founded luck of us Chelm schlimazls that, by the time a
nanny goat finally reaches our town, it’s sure to turn into a
billy!”
Innocence and Arithmetic
A young scholar of Chelm, innocent in the ways of earthly
matters, was stunned one morning when his wife gave birth.
Pell-mell he ran to the rabbi.
“Rabbi,” he blurted out, “an extraordinary thing has hap-
pened! Please explain it to me! My wife has just given birth
although we have been married only three months! How can
this be? Everybody knows it takes nine months for a baby to
be bom!”
The rabbi, a world-renowned sage, put on his silver-
rimmed spectacles and furrowed his brow reflectively.
“My son,” he said, “I see you haven’t the slightest idea
about such matters, nor can you make the simplest calcula-
tion. Let me ask you: Have you lived with your wife three
months?”
“Yes.”
“Has she lived with you three months?”
“Yes.”
‘Together — have you lived three months?"
“Yes.”
“What’s the total then — three months plus three plus
three?”
“Nine months. Rabbi!”
‘Then why do you come to bother me with your foolish
questions!”
222 the human comedy
By the Beard of His Mother
A young man from Chelm, who was studying to be a sage,
felt very much troubled in mind. So he went to the Chief
Sage and asked him, “Perhaps you can tell me why no hair is
growing on my chin? Now it couldn’t be heredity— or could
it? Take my father — you know what a fine thick beard he
has.”
The Chief Sage reflectively stroked his beard for a while
and then his face lit up.
“Perhaps you take after your mother!” he suggested.
“That must be it, since my mother has no beard!” cried the
youth with admiration. “What a sage you are!”
The Great Chelm Controversy
Although the Jews of Chelm loved their rabbi, he remained
aloof from the populace, as a wonder-working rabbi should.
They hardly ever saw him. That’s why nobody knew for cer-
tain whether he had a head or not.
One day the rabbi disappeared and all the people of Chelm
went searching for him. They looked high and low, but found
no trace of the rabbi. Finally, one searching party found a
headless body in the woods. So the sages were sent for. They
examined the body carefully, reflected and reflected. Then up
spoke the Chief Sage, “This is indeed very puzzling! If the
rabbi had a head, then it’s clear that this is not his body.”
“On the other hand,” another sage took exception, “if the
rabbi didn’t have a head then it’s certain, as my name is
Shabsi, that this is his body!”
“We must clear up this point!” insisted the Chief Sage.
“Let us question the shammes who always waited on the
rabbi.”
So they called the shammes.
“Reb Todros,” they asked, “do you know whether our
rabbi had a head?”
Reb Todros knitted his forehead. He thought and he
thought and finally he said, “God preserve us all! I don’t
know what to tell you. You know what kind of a man our
rabbi was. He was always wrapped up in his prayer-shawl,
like the saint he was. Therefore, I never saw anything of him
but his feet. How should I know whether this is his body?”
“Let the bathman be questioned now,” ordered the Chief
Sage.
DROLL CHARACTERS
223
So the bathman stepped forward.
‘Tell us, my good man, do you know whether our rabbi
had a head?” he was asked.
The bathman shook his head doubtfully.
“For the life of me I can’t tell whether our rabbi had a
head or not! The only time I ever saw him was in the steam-
bath where he would lie sweating on the topmost bench.
When I scourged him with birch-twigs I could only see his
backside. So how do you expect me to know whether this is
our rabbi?”
“This is bad! A very knotty problem indeed!” cried the
sages.
“Let us call on the rebbitzenl” suggested the Chief Sage.
“She should know!”
“An excellent idea!” echoed his colleagues, and they went
to see the rabbi’s wife.
They found her drenched in tears.
“What a saint my dear husband was!” she lamented. “As a
wonder-working rabbi there wasn’t his like in the whole
world. He himself told me his soul went up to heaven every
night!”
“We know, we know all that!” the Chief Sage interrupted
her impatiently. “What we should like to know is whether he
had a head or not.”
“A head, did you say?” asked the rebbitzen, drying her
tears. “Now let me think! The only thing I’m certain of is
that he had a nose because he used to take snuff. But whether
he had a head or not only the Lord knows!”
And so what do you think happened? All Chelm became
divided into two hostile camps; one maintained heatedly that
the rabbi did have a head— the other just as heatedly argued
that he didn’t.
Now, I ask you Reb Jew, what’s your opinion?
Superfluous
“Which is more important, the sun or the moon?” a citizen
of Chelm asked his rabbi.
‘The moon, of course,” replied the rabbi. “It shines at
night, when it is needed. The sun shines only during the day,
when there is no need of it at all!”
THE HUMAN COMEDY
224
Wet Logic
A sage of Chelm went bathing in the lake and almost
drowned. When he raised an outcry other swimmers came to
his rescue. As he was helped out of the water he took a
solemn oath : “I swear never to go into the water again until I
learn how to swim!”
Can This Be I?
A man of Chelm, having concluded that people could be dis-
tinguished from one another only by their clothing, began to
fear lest one day he be lost in the bathhouse, where all are
naked and therefore indistinguishable one from the other. To
guard against such a risk he tied a string around his leg.
Unfortunately the string came loose, and he lost it An-
other man of Chelm found it and, perhaps disturbed by the
same fear, fastened it around his own leg.
This first man noticed the second as both were emerging to
dress. “Woe is me,” he cried, “if this fellow is me, who am
I?”
The Columbus of Chelm
In the town of Chelm there lived a man whose name was
Reb Selig. He was a sage, but a restless one. He had the wan-
derlust in his blood and always dreamed of seeing the world.
But, since he was a sage, he was poor, so he could never af-
ford to travel abroad like the rich merchants in the town.
One day, a Chelm merchant returned from a visit to War-
saw. That day, and every day thereafter for a week, one
could hear nothing else talked about in Chelm except the
wonders of Warsaw that the merchant had described so vivid-
ly. No one listened more raptly than Reb Selig.
From that time on he walked about like one possessed,
filled with only one desire: to see Warsaw. He could neither
eat nor sleep nor find rest for himself. His wife was per-
plexed; she didn’t know what had come over her Selig.
One morning he arose and said to her with a faraway look
in his eyes, “I’ve got to go to Warsaw!”
“What for?” -
“I hear it’s a wonderful city!”
“But you have no money.”
“I’ll walk.”
DROLL CHARACTERS
225
“But you’ll wear out your shoes.”
“I’ll walk barefoot and carry them in my hand.”
“You’ve gone out of your mind, Selig!”
“I’ve got to see Warsaw!” Reb Selig insisted.
So he put some bread and cheese in a knapsack and threw
it over his shoulder. He took up his oak stick and, with his
shoes in his hands, he started out for the great city.
Reb Selig hastened along borne on wings. He didn’t mind
at all that he was barefoot and that the sharp pebbles pricked
the soles of his feet. He sang all the way and was filled with
joy thinking that soon his eyes would feast on the wonders of
Warsaw.
When the sun stood high in the sky Reb Selig began to feel
the pangs of hunger. He sat down in the shade of a tree at a
fork of the road. He ate his noonday meal of bread and
cheese. Then, feeling drowsy, he decided to take a short nap
in order to refresh himself. But before doing that, he wanted
to make sure that he would continue on the right road when
he awoke.
“Now, let me see,” he said to himself. “I’m at the fork of
two roads; one goes to Warsaw and the other goes back to
Chelm. I must make sure to take the one to Warsaw and not
the one back to Chelm.”
So he took his shoes and placed them on the road with the
toes facing Warsaw. “When I awake I’ll be sure to take the
right road,” he thought
Pleased with his cleverness he stretched his length on the
grass and went to sleep.
Ai, what a sleep that was! It was the sleep of the blessed,
like that of the Patriarch Jacob when he saw angels in his
dream! And while Reb Selig slept so soundly, so sweetly, a
peasant came jogging along in his cart. When the peasant saw
the pair of shoes in the road he said to himself: “What luck!
Here’s a pair of shoes sitting like orphans in the road!”
So he stopped his horse, climbed off the cart and picked up
the shoes.
“The black cholera take them!” he murmured. “They’re not
shoes — they’re so full of holes they’re sieves!”
So he dropped the shoes, but, in dropping them; they fell
with the toes facing Chelm.
After a while Reb Selig awoke. Recalling where he was he
jumped up, eager to continue on his journey.
“How clever of me,” he gloated, “to have had the foresight
226
THE HUMAN COMEDY
to place my shoes with their toes pointing toward Warsaw.
Now I just can’t go wrong!”
And he continued on his journey.
Soon he came in sight of the city. Selig hastened his foot-
steps. As he passed through the streets he couldn’t help mar-
velling at the strange appearance of things, at the houses, the
streets and the people.
“As I live and breathe!” he cried. “Warsaw isn’t as big as I
expected it to be. Why it looks exactly like Chelm, like two
peas in a pod!”
He continued on his way and, as he passed the bathhouse,
a man sitting at the door greeted him amiably with a
“Sholom aleicheml” Selig responded with a hearty, “Aleichem
sholoml”
“As my name is Selig,” he muttered to himself, “this man
looks like Fishel the bathman way back in Chelm, and the
bathhouse looks like ours, too! What can it all mean?”
Soon he came to the synagogue.
“This is an exact copy of ours in Chelm!” he thought in
surprise.
Out of force of habit he went inside.
What he saw there made his hair stand on end.
“If I didn’t know that I was in Warsaw I could swear that
the people here are all my fellow townsmen!” he muttered to
himself.
And, as he stood gaping, the shammes, hurrying by, el-
bowed him aside and stepped on his corns.
“Out of my way!” he cried.
“As there’s a God in Heaven,” Selig said to himself not be-
lieving his own senses, “this shammes not only looks like our
shammes in Chelm but he even talks and acts like him!
Strange, very strange.”
Reb Selig left the synagogue full of bewilderment.
“What can all this mean?” he asked himself, anxiously. He
was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he did not realize
where he was going. Suddenly he looked up and found him-
self walking on a very familiar street.
So help me God!” he cried. “Why this looks like my own
street! So this is Warsaw? What a disappointment! Did I have
to go to all this trouble to come here only to see a street that
looks exactly like my own?”
In front of a house that also looked like his own he saw
some children rolling hickory nuts into a hole.
DROLL CHARACTERS
227
“May I break hands and feet if that is not my Moishele
playing there!”
At that very moment a woman stuck her head out of a
window and cried:
“Selig, why do you stand there right in the middle of the
street with your mouth open like an idiot? Come in — dinner
is ready!”
Selig marvelled: He could have sworn the woman was like
a twin sister of his wife, Leah! Spoke exactly the same way
too! Besides, had she not called him Selig? Indeed, he had to
get to the bottom of it all. So he went inside and pretended
he was her husband Selig.
Sure enough, the house was furnished just like his own! He
sat down to dinner. Just as he had expected — the roast was
burnt, the same way his wife Leah burned it.
“The only conclusion I can come to,” finally decided Reb
Selig, “is that Warsaw is exactly like Chelm, down to the last
detail. True, this is a house that looks like my own, a woman
like my wife and a little boy like my Moishele, and her hus-
band’s name is Selig. But I know very well that they are not
mine!”
So Reb Selig sat thoughtfully at table and began to feel
very homesick for his own little family in Chelm.
“What bothers me though,” he decided finally, “is whether
the Warsaw Selig that lives in this house is also exactly like
me. I know already that his name is Selig and that he looks
like me. The question is: who and where is he?”
And so Reb Selig, provided he’s still living, is waiting to
this very day, with characteristic Chelm patience, for the ar-
rival of the other Selig — the Selig of Warsaw.
To such lengths do the sages of Chelm go in order to es-
tablish the truth!
Food Out of the Horse’s Mouth
A merchant from Chelm drove to market in a neighboring
town.
“What are you selling?” asked a prospective customer.
Bending over confidentially, the merchant whispered in his
ear: “Oats.”
“Oats?” the customer asked in astonishment. “What the
devil’s the secret then?”
228
THE HOMAN COMEDY
“Sh-sh!” cautioned the merchant of Chelm. “Not so loud! I
don t want the horse to know!”
A Sage Question
A Was examinin8 a horse in the marketplace of Chelm.
Thus is a wonderful horse!” the horse-dealer went into
raptures. He gallops like the wind! Imagine, if you leave
Chelm with him at three in the morning you’d get to Lublin
st six!
The sage looked doubtful.
• ‘3?at °° frth wi'1 I do in Lublin so early in the mom-
mg/ he asked, scratching his head.
Chelm Justice
A G*!EATi calamity befell Chelm one day. The town cobbler
murdered one of his customers. So he was brought before the
judge who sentenced him to die by hanging.
When the verdict was read a townsman arose and cried
ouy i your Honor pleases — you have sentenced to death
the town cobbler! He’s the only one we’ve got. If you hang
him who will mend our shoes?” y S
voice^07 Wh°?” Cried aU 1116 Pe°Ple of Chelm with one
The judge nodded in agreement and reconsidered his ver-
diet.
Good people of Chelm,” he said, “what you say is true.
Since we have only one cobbler it would be a great wrong
against the community to let him die. As there are two
roofers m the town let one of them be hanged instead!”
Pure Science
Two sages of Chelm got involved in a deep philosophical argu-
“Since you’re so wise,” said one, sarcastically, “try to an-
swer tfus cjuestion: Why is it that when a slice of buttered
side?” faUS thC gr°UDd’ ifs bound t0 fal1 on the buttered
But as the other sage was a bit of a scientist he decided to
thl.s. theory by a practical experiment. He went and
buttered a slice of bread. Then he dropped it.
“There you are!” he cried triumphantly. “The bread, as
DROLL CHARACTERS
229
you see, hasn’t fallen on its buttered side at all. So where is
your theory now?”
“Ho-ho!” laughed the other, derisively. “You think you’re
smart! You buttered the bread on the wrong side!”
Overcoming Messiah
Itzik the landowner, a leading citizen of Chelm, startled his
wife, Chashe, by storming into the house with the news that
the Messiah was coming — was at that very moment only a
few hours from Chelm.
But the news dismayed Itzik somewhat. “I have only re-
cently built this home, and have invested our funds in cattle,
and besides, I have just finished sowing our crops!”
Chashe calmed him, declaring philosophically, “Don’t
worry! Think of the trials and tribulations our people have
met and survived — the bondage in Egypt, the wickedness of
Haman, the persecutions and pogroms without end. All of
these the good Lord has helped us overcome, and with just a
little more help from Him, we will overcome the Messiah,
too!”
The Umbrella
Two sages of Chelm went out for a walk. One carried an
umbrella, the other didn’t. Suddenly, it began to rain.
“Open your umbrella, quick!” suggested the one without an
umbrella.
“It won’t help,” answered the other.
“What do you mean, it won’t help? It will protect us from
the rain.”
“It’s no use, the umbrella is as full of holes as a sieve.”
“Then why did you take it along in the first place?”
“I didn’t think it would rain.”
Excavation in Chelm
The citizens of Chelm were digging a foundation for a new
synagogue when one of them suddenly paused in his labors,
rested on his spade, and began to stroke his beard. “What are
we going to do,” he asked of no one in particular, “with all
this earth we’re digging up?”
“I never thought of that,” said another. “What, indeed, are
we going to do with it?”
I
the human comedy
“Ah, I know,” the first went on, “we will make a pit, and
into it we’ll put all this earth we’re digging up for our
synagogue.”
wdt a minute,” said the other, “that doesn’t solve it
at all. What will we do with the earth from the pit?”
“I’ll tell you what,” said the first, “we’ll dig another pit,
twice as big as the first, and into it we’ll shovel all the earth
we re diggmg now, and all the earth from the first pit!”
Whereupon, both went back to their digging.
The Worriers of Chelm
The people of Chelm were worriers. So they called a meeting
to do something about the problem of worry. A motion was
duly made and seconded to the effect that Yossel, the cob-
bler, be retained by the community as a whole, to do its
worrying, and that his fee be one ruble per week.
The motion was about to carry, all speeches having been
tor the affirmative, when one sage propounded the fatal ques-
tion: If Yossel earned a ruble a week, what would he have
to worry about?”
The Safeguard
To the scandal of Chelm the poor box was stolen from the
synagogue. So it was unanimously resolved that a new poor
box be prepared, and suspended from the ceiling of the
synagogue entrance hall, but so close to the ceiling that no
ffiief would ever be able to reach it Satisfied that a crisis had
been averted, the people dispersed congratulating each other
on a sage decision.
But soon the shammes raised a new problem. “It is true ”
he declared, “that the new box is safe from thieves, but it is
out of reach also of the charitable! No one at all can reach
But no problem was too discouraging for the wisdom of
Chelm. It was promptly decreed that a ladder be built
reaching to the poor box, so that the charitable might get to
it, and that, lest any pious citizen be hurt, the ladder be per-
manently and immovably fastened to both floor and ceiling!
231
DROLL CHARACTERS
The Discreet Shammes
A man died suddenly in Chelm while doing business in the
market-place. So the rabbi sent the shammes to the dead
man’s wife.
“Be careful,” he cautioned him, “and break the news to
her as gently as possible!”
The shammes knocked. A woman came to the door.
“Does the widow Rachel live here?” he asked.
“I’m Rachel, and I live here,” replied the woman, “but I’m
no widow.”
“Ha! Ha!” laughed the shammes, triumphantly. “How much
do you want to bet you are?”
A Riddle
Once on a visit to Berditchev a certain sage of Chelm joined
a circle of kibbitzers around the synagogue stove while wait-
ing for the services to begin. Seeing a stranger, the shammes
tried to entertain him, so he put to him the following riddle:
“Who is it— he’s my father’s son, yet he’s not my brother?”
The sage of Chelm racked his brains for the answer but in
vain.
“I give up!” he said finally. “Now tell me — who is it?”
“Why, it’s me!” replied the shammes, triumphantly.
The sage of Chelm was amazed by the cleverness of the
riddle and when he returned home he lost no time in assem-
bling all the other sages.
“My masters,” he began gravely, stroking his long gray
beard reflectively, “I am going to put to you a riddle and see
if you can answer it. Who is it — he’s my father’s son, yet he’s
not my brother?”
The sages of Chelm were greatly perplexed. They thought
and thought and finally said: “We give up! Tell us! Who is
it?”
“He’s the shammes in the Berditchev synagogue!” the sage
announced triumphantly.
Taxes
Two sages of Chelm were tangled up in deep argument.
“What I would like to know,” asked one, “is why the Czar
has to collect from me a ruble for taxes. Hasn’t he got a mint
of his own? Surely he can make as many rubles as he likes.”
232
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“What a silly argument for a sage!” his colleague mocked
at him. “Now take a Jew: every time he does a good deed he
creates an angel. So you will ask: why on earth does God
need your good deed in order to add one more angel to the
millions of angels that are already in Heaven? Surely, He’s
fully capable Himself of creating as many angels as He likes!
Then why doesn’t He do so? Simply because He prefers your
angel. The same thing is true about taxes. Of course the Czar
can make as many rubles as he likes; but, you see, he prefers
to take your ruble!”
The Affair of the Rolling Trunk
A melamed once lived on top of the hill on Synagogue Street
in Chelm, and he was a great schlimazl. Everything turned
for him, as the saying goes, “buttered side down.” It was
therefore with a nagging envy that he watched the rich
people of Chelm having all the good things in life, while he,
poor schlimazl, had to dine daily on a dry crust of bread and
an onion.
One day, he said wistfully to his wife, “Leah-Zoshe, my
heart, I can no longer endure bread and onion; it’s already
crawling out of my gullet. It’s about time we had a little
pleasure, just like the rich. Let’s put money by for a cake, the
kind we tasted at the wedding of the rabbi’s daughter, full of
honey and delicious raisins and almonds.”
The idea pleased Leah-Zoshe no end. “Good — I have a
plan!” she said eagerly. “You know my grandmother’s large
trunk with the four wheels up in the garret. Let’s make a
little hole in it. Every Friday afternoon before you go to the
mikveh you drop in a kopek. I will do the same before I light
the Sabbath candles. In that way, by the time Shevuos comes
around, we’ll have enough money to make a cake that will
melt in your mouth.”
On the first Friday the melamed and his wife dutifully
dropped into the trunk a kopek each. But when the second
Friday came around the melamed, who was a profound
scholar, thought the matter over in this wise. “Fool that I am!
What’s the earthly use of dropping in kopek after kopek in
this trunk? Surely Leah-Zoshe, that faithful old soul, will
keep dropping in kopeks regularly so that we’ll soon have
money for a wonderful cake without my contributions. I can
use the money for other things.”
DROLL CHARACTERS
233
So the melamed stopped his contributions.
Now Leah-Zoshe was so smart she could even have been a
rebbitzen. “If God gave you a head, Leah-Zoshe, use it!” she
admonished herself. “After all I’m only a poor yiddena! Must
I bother my head with kopeks? That’s a man’s job! I have
enough trouble as it is to make ends meet on the ten rubles a
month that schlimazl gives me for household expenses. There
are important things for which I can use my kopeks. In any
case what do we need so many kopeks for? The kopeks Men-
del drops in will be enough, I’m sure.”
So she too stopped her contributions.
Several days before Shevuos Mendel the melamed and
Leah-Zoshe his wife decided it was time to open the trunk
and take out all the kopeks.
“Ai, what a cake that’ll be!” exclaimed Mendel rap-
turously. “It will have all the tastes of the Garden of Eden!”
And Mendel sighed contentedly and smacked his lips as if he
had already eaten the cake.
With great ceremony Mendel unlocked the trunk. Carefully
he lifted the lid and peered inside.
"Gewalt!” he cried, turning pale. “We’re robbed!”
Leah-Zoshe quickly stuck her head into the trunk and ex-
claimed, “Tateniul They left us only two kopeks, the rascals!”
Then suddenly a dark thought clouded her mind. “Schli-
mazl,” she cried, “tell me the truth! Did you drop more than
one kopek into the trunk?”
“What do you take me for, a fool?” retorted Mendel. “Of
course not. I figured your kopeks would be enough. Now that
you have mentioned it, my fine shrew, what happened to
your kopeks?”
“My kopeks? What do you mean, my kopeks? If you were
honest enough to put in yours we wouldn’t have needed
mine.”
At this both became inflamed with anger at each other and
they set to with a right good will so that their cries could be
heard all the way down Synagogue Street. In the scuffle.
Mendel lost his balance and fell into the trunk, pulling Leah-
Zoshe with him.
And before you could say “Constantinople” the lid had
snapped shut on them! However, in their frantic struggle to
get out they set the trunk in motion on its four wheels. The
door of their little cottage being open, for it was a balmy
234
THE HUMAN COMEDY
day, the trunk rolled through the doorway with the greatest
of ease and down the hill into Synagogue Street.
“Gewalt! Gewalt!" Unearthly voices issued from the trunk
as it rolled toward the synagogue.
Women shrieked, children bawled and all the dogs of
Chelm ran barking madly after it.
“It surely must be a demon!” commented the Chief Sage as
the trunk whirled by him and he heard the muffled cries in-
side it.
The trunk’s wild journey came suddenly to an end in front
of the synagogue. By this time all of Chelm had gathered
around it, gaping with curiosity.
“Fetch Berl the locksmith!” ordered the Chief Sage in a
voice of authority. “All together we’ll drive this demon out!”
And so, after chanting appropriate incantations, the lock
was pried open by Berl the locksmith and, more dead than
alive, out peered Mendel the melamed and his wife Leah-
Zoshe.
“Heaven preserve us, look who’s here!” the people of
Chelm cried.
The runaway trunk had so frightened the people of Chelm
that in response to the general clamor, the Chief Sage was
obliged to call a special meeting of all the sages of Chelm.
After long and judicious deliberation they resolved that
never again must such an unseemly thing happen in their
town. To make their decision effective and binding forever
upon all future generations of Chelmites they passed the fol-
lowing laws:
1. That every door in Chelm had to be provided with a
high threshold.
2. That no melamed could ever live on Synagogue Street
3. That henceforth no trunk could have any wheels.
The Secret of Growing
Two sages of Chelm sat around the synagogue stove on a
cold winter day. They debated heatedly over the following
question: at which end does a human being grow?
“What a question!” cried one. “Any fool knows that a man
grows from his feet up.”
“Give me proof,” demanded the other.
Several years ago I bought myself a pair of pants but they
DROLL CHARACTERS
235
were so long that they trailed on the ground. Now look at
them — see how short they’ve gotten. There’s your proof.”
It s just the other way around,” maintained the other.
“Anyone with eyes in his head can see that man grows from
the head. Why, just yesterday I watched a regiment of sol-
diers on parade and it was clear as daylight that at the bot-
tom of their feet they were all the same; they differed in size
only at the top!”
SCHLEMIHLS AND SCHLIMAZLS
Introduction
Out of the poverty of European ghetto life arose two
folktypes — the schlemihl and the schlimazl. True, they had their
counterparts in the misfits and the maladjusted of all peoples, but
who could compare with them in the extent and intensity of their
almost comic wretchedness?
The words schlemihl and schlimazl are rarely applied according
to their precise meanings. Almost always they are used interchange-
ably. This, of course, is not altogether without reason — the two
types did have an affinity; they both had their origin in the same
economic swamp of ghetto-stagnation. Also their end product was
identical — failure!
What actually is a schlemihl ? The etymology of the word is
very much in doubt. Outside of Yiddish, the first mention of the
word is in the title of Chamisso’s famous story of Peter Schlemihl
(1813), the man who sold his shadow. The Bible mentions a She-
lumiel who was a prince of the tribe of Simon. But there is noth-
ing to . associate him with a schlemihl. A theory about the
schlemihl, one not to be taken too seriously, is built upon the folk
story of probable medieval origin concerning a certain Schlumiel
who went off on a journey for more than a year. Upon his return
he is aghast to discover that his wife has just given birth; but the
rabbinical authorities by a very liberal interpretation of the laws
of nature convince him that he is no cuckold.
In the Jewish folk-mind, however, the schlemihl is conceived of
as an awkward, bungling fellow, plagued not only with “butter-
fingers,” but with absolutely no skill in coping with any situation
in life. He is forever getting in his own and everybody else’s way
and spoils everything he attempts. A comic-strip portrayal of the
schlemihl on the American scene was Moishe Kapoir (Moses Up-
side-Down). He regaled readers of a Yiddish newspaper in the
early 1920’s and proved so popular that his name even entered
into the language.
236
THE HUMAN COMEDY
What is a schlimazll He is a first cousin to the schlemihl. No
matter what he too puts his hand to turns out wrong, but not be-
cause he lacks ability or intelligence but because he simply has
no luck; the cards of an intensely competitive life are stacked
against him. In fact, that is the probable meaning of the word
schlimazl: schlim being the German word for “bad” — mazl the
Hebrew word for “luck.”
To put it succinctly, a wit has made the following neat distinc-
tion between these two types: “A schlemihl is a man who spills a
bowl of hot soup on a schlimazl.”
In the Twelfth Century a schlimazel of genius, the poet Abra-
ham ibn Ezra (of whom Robert Browning has written), laughed
at his own misfortunes with mirthful irony:
If I sold shrouds, Then, in the sky
No one would die. The sun, for spite.
If I sold lamps, Would shine by night
How the schlemihl or schlimazl managed to survive was a mi-
nor miracle. He seemed to draw his livelihood, such as it was,
from the very air. That is what led Max Nordau, a well-known
Jewish figure at the turn of the century, to coin the word
luftmensch (air-man).
As identifiable types, schlemihls and schlimazls must have
sprung into being with the first drastic economic discriminations
against Jews by the Byzantine emperors, beginning with Justinian
(530-560) who froze the social and economic restrictions against
the Jews into ruthless Roman law. The Imperial Code bristled
with a great number of prohibitions — “the Jews shall not” and
“the Jews must not,” features which thereafter entered into almost
all legal codes in European countries down to the Nuremberg
Laws of Hitler. As one writer has remarked: “It reduced men,
who through the generations had loved to live by the work of
their hands, to the necessity of living by the exercise of their
wits.”
In the course of time the schlemihl and the schlimazl became
typed in folklore and acquired traditional physiognomies that
were half-ludicrous and half-pathetic. In order to survive, they
had to be eternally hopeful, untiringly enterprising, and yet— by
the very nature of circumstance and their personalities they were
pathetic flops. The many anxieties of their family life, the uncer-
tainties of their sustenance which became a daily harassment,
brought a haunted apologetic look into their eyes. Sholom Alei-
chem drew endless amusement out of the misadventures of his ir-
repressible, daydreaming schlimazls, Tevye the Dairyman and
Menachem Mendel. If he made merry over them it was only with
the compassionate intention of minimizing their own troubles for
DROLL CHARACTERS
237
thousands of other Tevyes and Menachem Mendels struggling for
survival.
In the Russian and Polish ghettos, not only the unemployed
scholar, but the petty shopkeeper, the occasional trader, and the
man without a trade as well, were driven to pursue the elusive
firefly of many occupations, and usually starved on all of them.
This particularly held true during the Nineteenth Century
when, by Imperial ukase, there took place many mass-expulsions
of lews from the small towns and villages into the already over-
crowded city ghettos. Keen as competition was before in those
places, it now became even more feverish and desperate. Count
Pahlen reported to the Czar in 1888: “About ninety per cent of
the whole lewish population form a mass of people that are en-
tirely unprovided for ... a mass that lives from hand to mouth
amidst poverty.”
There is a type of schlemihl in Jewish folklore who stands by
himself. He is the henpecked husband. Because there were so
many schlemihls in Jewish life there was naturally a superfluity of
henpecked husbands. In Bible times the shrew was considered as
a divine punishment “which shall fall to the lot of the sinner.”
There is the proverb: “It is better to dwell in the wilderness, than
with a contentious and angry woman.” An unknown, but proba-
bly long-suffering Talmudic sage became downright bitter about
it: “Life is not worth living for a husband who has a domineer-
ing wife.”
Of course there were some gentle and unembittered souls
among henpecked husbands who endured their marital martyr-
dom with philosophical resignation. They tried hard to read into
their misfortune some hidden blessings. The sage Rabbi Hiyya,
for instance, had a quarrelsome and shrewish wife. He tried to
turn her wrath from him with gifts. Whenever he saw some
pretty trinket that he thought would charm her, he would buy it,
put it in his turban, and hasten home with it to surprise her.
“Isn’t she a shrew, continually pecking at you?” he was asked
once.
Rabbi Hiyya replied: “Taking care of our children and saving
us from sin is sufficient for us to be tender to our wives, re-
gardless of their dispositions.”
N.A. '
The Henpecked Rabbi
Rabbi Jacob Isaac of Lublin had a shrewish wife. She con-
stantly nagged him but, as he practiced great self-restraint, he
suffered in silence. At last one day, when his patience had
238
the human comedy
worn thin, he retorted to her with a few sharp words. When
his disciple, Rabbi Bunam, heard this he was filled with
amazement.
“What suddenly made you talk back to your wife, Rabbi?”
he asked.
“It would have been cruel not to answer her,” replied
Rabbi Jacob Isaac. What irritated her more than anything
else was the fact that I did not respond to her nagging.”
Poor Man’s Luck
A RABBI was asked to explain why it was that everything was
permitted the rich but not the poor.
“Is there a separate Torah for the rich and another for the
poor?”
“It’s all a matter of luck,” answered the rabbi. “Moses
came down from Mt. Sinai and found that the Jews had fash-
ioned a golden calf. He got so angry about it that he went
and shattered the Ten Commandments. The Tables of the
Law, as you know, were made of the most precious gems.
When the multitude saw Moses break them they leaped for-
ward to pick up the valuable pieces that fell in every direc-
tion. Now who do you think had all the luck in the world?
The rich, of course! They picked up all the pieces on which
was written — Thou shalt. The poor, on the other hand, who
have been schlimazls ever since the beginning of Creation,
had no luck at all. All they could pick up in the scramble
were little bits of the Tables on which was written the word
not. So there!”
Two Possibilities
A poor melamed made up his mind he was going to get a
cow, for he had many children and he could not afford to
buy milk for all of them. So he tried hard to convince his
wife that his idea was sound.
“Believe me,” ha urged with enthusiasm, “it would even be
worthwhile to pawn everything we’ve got in order to buy a
cow!”
But his wife was more cautious than he, so she asked,
What guarantee do you have that the cow you’ll buy will
give milk?” ' y
u ‘<what a siHy question to ask!” replied the teacher heatedly.
In any case there are two possibilities! If the cow gives
DROLL CHARACTERS 239
it will be fine! On the other hand — if the cow does not
give milk - - What do you mean if the cow does not give
milk! How is it possible that the cow will not give milk?”
To Avert Disaster
. . But you’ve just got to give me some money!” insisted
the schlimazl.
“Why so?” demanded the rich man,
“Because if you don’t, I’ll ... ril go into the hat
business!”
“So what?”
“What do you mean, so what? If a man with my luck goes
mto the hat business, every baby in this country from that
day on will be bom without a head!”
Poor Fish
A fish dealer in a Jewish neighborhood in the Bronx once
put out a sign, reading: “Fresh fish sold here.”
A customer came in and asked in surprise, “Why did you
put the word ‘fresh’ on your sign? It’s understood your fish
are fresh — or do they stink?”
“Of course not!” agreed the fish dealer, and hurriedly he
painted out the word “fresh.”
■^ ^tle while later another customer came in and comment-
ed, “What for do you need the word ‘here’ on your sign?
Where else could you be selling your fish?”
You re right!” agreed the fish dealer, and he painted out
the word “here.”
Later, another customer complained, “ ‘Sold’! What do you
mean, ‘sold’? Surely you’re not giving away any of your fish!”
Indeed not!” agreed the fish dealer, and he went and
painted out the word “sold.”
Finally, an old lady wearing a kerchief hobbled in. She saw
the sign, and croaked in a high thin voice, “ ‘Fish’? You don’t
need to advertise your fish! Believe me, you can smell them a
mile away!”
The fish dealer heaved a deep sigh, picked up his brush
and painted out the word “fish.”
Z4U THE HUMAN COMEDY
A Jewish Highwayman
Once there was a poor Jew who had a wife and six children
but no source of income. His wife scolded him all day long
for being a schlemihl and his children cried all the time be-
cause they were hungry. And so, with a troubled spirit, he sat
down to think.
Suddenly a terrible thought occurred to him! He was going
to he a highwayman, a wicked, throat-slitting highwayman!
He had often heard tales of such men, how with the greatest
of ease they acquired large sums of money. Not that he had
ever seen any or knew how they went about their business.
But he was not going to stand his wife’s nagging anymore!
He would show her what kind of a schlemihl he was!
So early one morning he put on a large sack over his
clothes, stuck a hatchet in his belt, took along his tallis and
te fill in and went into the forest.
He hid behind a tree and from there kept a sharp lookout
He waited and waited. But what poor Jew has luck? The
morning passed and then the afternoon, and still not a soli-
tary person came in sight. Finally the sun began to set and
the shadows of night fell. Seeing this the highwayman grew
uneasy.
“Nu, what can I do now?” he thought. “It’s time to say the
Mincha prayer.”
So he started to pray. But no sooner had he started the
eighteen benedictions and was reciting: “Look but upon our
affliction, and fight our fight, and redeem us speedily for the
sake of Thy Name,” when he suddenly saw a Jew coming
towards him. Silently he motioned to him to wait until he had
finished the prayer. Politely, and with a pious man’s regard
for another’s devotions, the stranger waited.
Having finished the recitation of the eighteenth benediction
with a resounding “Amen!” the highwayman ran up to the
stranger and, drawing his hatchet, he cried, “Your money or
your life!”
The stranger regarded him with amazement.
“What are you — crazy or just a nit-wit?” he inquired.
“I am a highwayman!” answered the highwayman sternly.
“And if you won’t give me all your money right away I’m
going to kill you in cold blood!”
“See here,” pleaded the stranger seeing that he was in ear-
nest, “I am a Jew, a destitute man! I am a father and a hus-
droll characters 241
bRmJ! Where do you suppose a man like me would get money
trom. Surely you don’t want to make my children orphans
and my wife a widow! Who will provide for them? With me
dead they’ll perish of hunger!”
The highwayman listened attentively and nodded his head.
ba.nd\,'>lCh ” ** thought’ “A poor man> a father and a hus-
“You’re right!” he said aloud. “It would indeed be a pity to
km yomVery well then, so I won’t kill you— but do give me
sl ruble.
“A ™J?]e!” cried the stranger, getting red in the face with
anger. Who do you take me for — Rothschild?”
“Well then give me ten kopeks.”
. “T,en„ k°Peks! Are you crazy? Why should I give you ten
kopeks? Even a rich man doesn’t give an alms of ten kopeks
at one smack.” *
“In that case, give me a cigarette.”
“A cigarette! I don’t smoke.”
/Wh,” sighed the highwayman wearily, “let me have a
pinch of snuff.
place?” 3 P'nCh °f Snuff! didn’t you say so in the first
. the stranger opened his snuff-box and graciously offered
it to the highwayman.
The highwayman took a pinch of snuff and sneezed- “A-
choo!
“Gesundheit!” said the stranger heartily.
Then the stranger took a pinch of snuff and sneezed: “A-
choo!”
“ Gesundheit !” echoed the highwayman politely.
, They sneezed so heartily that the forest reverberated with
the sound. Then they shook hands and said goodnight.
Definition
A poor man, a schlimazl, once came to the rabbi.
“Advise me. Rabbi— what shall I do?” he complained.
Whatever I put my hand to fails. If I sell umbrellas— it
doesn t ram. And if I sell shrouds— nobody dies. What trade
shall I take up?”
advice’ my son> and become a baker,” said the
rabbi. If you become a baker you’ll at least have bread in
the house.”
242
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“True,” answered the hard-bitten schlimazl, “but what will
happen if I don’t have money to buy flour?”
“You won’t be a baker then,” said the rabbi.
X Marks the Spot
Shmul the tailor came to America from a little Russian
town. He didn’t know how to read or write but he opened a
clothing shop in New York and he began to prosper. In time
he went to the bank to open a checking account. Not know-
ing how to write, he signed two crosses on the bank
documents in lieu of his name.
As time went on he prospered still more. He sold his
cloak-and-suit business and began to manufacture textiles. So
he went to the bank and opened up a new account. This time
he signed all the bank documents with three crosses.
“Why three crosses?” asked the bank president. “You’ve al-
ways signed with two.”
“Oh, you know how women are, fancy-shmancy,” he mut-
tered apologetically. “My wife wants me to take on a middle
name I”
Marriages Are Made in Heaven
For many years the meek rabbi endured the nagging of his
shrewish wife with resignation. Everyone marvelled greatly
over his self-control. One day a friend of his said to him:
“It’s simply not human to be as patient as you are! If I
were in your place I’d divorce your wife — she’s the scandal
of the whole town.”
The rabbi sighed wearily and murmured:
“It must be God’s will.”
“Nonsense!” protested his friend. “Surely you don’t mean
to tell me that it is God’s will to punish a holy man like
you!”
“Far be it from me to question the justice of God’s will,”
gently answered the rabbi. “My own common sense tells me
that it is wise. What if my wife had been married instead to
an impatient man? Why, he would have divorced her and ru-
ined her life forever after! Therefore, you see that God must
have known what he was doing when he gave her to me who
can tolerate her nagging.”
DROLL CHARACTERS
243
An Absent-Minded Fellow
Once there was a gentle Talmud scholar, but in his wife’s
eyes he was only a schlemihl. He always lost things — never
found anything.
One Friday afternoon, he came home from the steambath.
His wife was startled to see that he was without a shirt.
“Where is your shirt, my fine schlemihlf'
“Oh, the shirt? Somebody must have changed his for mine
at the bath by mistake!”
“But where is his? I can see you haven’t got yours.”
“Tsk, tsk!” reflected the teacher. “The man must have been
an absent-minded fellow — he forgot to leave me his!”
A Prayer and a Deal
Once there was a poor man, a schlemihl. He was so unhappy
that he took pleasure in day-dreaming.
One day he uttered the following prayer:
“Dear God — give me ten thousand dollars for the New
Year. I’ll tell you what — I’ll make a deal with you. I swear to
give five thousand dollars of this amount for charity, the
other half let me keep. You say you have doubts about my
honorable intentions? — then give me the five thousand dollars
I ask for myself and the other five thousand dollars you give
to charity yourself.”
Vice Is Also an Art
The rabbi was disappointed in his son-in-law.
“What a simpleton our son-in-law is!” he complained to his
wife. “He doesn’t know the first thing about drink and
cards.”
“Is that a misfortune?” asked his wife wonderingly. “May
all sons-in-law be as ignorant about such things! So again,
what is the misfortune?”
“The misfortune is,” lamented the rabbi, “that not knowing
how to drink, he drinks nevertheless, and not knowing how to
play cards, he insists on playing them!”
244
THE HUMAN COMEDY
Ignoramuses and Pretenders
From What Einstein Makes a Living
Benny’s old grandfather, a grey-bearded patriarch from Po-
land, was very much puzzled by all the newspaper talk about
Einstein and his theory of relativity.
“Tell me, Benny,” he finally asked with curiosity one day
when his grandson returned home from college. “Who is this
Einstein and what is all this relativity business about?”
“Einstein is the greatest living scientist,” began Benny en-
thusiastically, a little uneasy about his own knowledge of the
matter. “Relativity is — well, it’s hard to explain. Let’s put it
this way: if a man’s sweetheart sits on his knee, an hour feels
like a minute. On the other hand, if the same man sits on a
hot stove, a minute feels like an hour. That’s the theory of
relativity!” concluded Benny triumphantly.
Grandpa looked shocked. For a minute he kept stunned
silence, an expression of incredulity in his eyes. Then he mut-
tered into his beard: “America goniff!
“Tell me, Benny,” he finally asked, “and from this your
Einstein makes a living?”
One Use for Scholarship
One day a stranger came into the House of Study; no one
had ever seen him before. Without a word he made his way
to the shelves where the books of sacred lore were stored. He
began to pull out one huge tome after another, folios of the
Talmud, the commentaries of Rashi, Ibn Ezra and the Ram-
bam.
At the time, the House of Study was full of scholars. They
watched the man at his work with incredulity.
“What a learned scholar he must be!” whispered one, awe-
struck.
“Never in my life have I seen a scholar use so many au-
thorities at one time!” said another.
Methodically, the stranger piled up his big books. Then, to
everybody’s amazement, he climbed on top of them and
reached for a hard cheese he had hidden on the very top
shelf.
DROLL CHARACTERS
245
The Truth about Falsehood
No man was imposed upon by rabbinical careerists as much
as the kind-hearted Rabbi Elijah, the Vilna Gaon.
One day, a pretentious Talmudic scholar asked him for a
testimonial for a learned treatise he was about to publish.
Rabbi Elijah couldn’t say “no,” as much as he wanted to do
so, and wrote a half-hearted testimonial. Although he had
plenty of room he signed his name at the very bottom of the
page.
“Why do you sign your name so far from your testimonial.
Rabbi?” asked the scholar.
Rabbi Elijah smiled ruefully and answered:
“Scripture commands us: ‘Get thee at a distance from
falsehood!’ ”
A Violation of Nature
Once there was a pretentious scholar who lost no opportunity
to sing his own praises and to push his own wares.
One day, having finished a commentary on the Book of
Psalms, he came to the Vilna Gaon for a testimonial. The
great Rabbi Elijah read it and, when he had finished, said
firmly, “I’m sorry, but I cannot give you a testimonial.”
“Why?”
“It reverses the natural order of things.”
“How so?” inquired the pretender, flattered at the thought
that his ideas were daringly original.
“The natural order is to make paper out of rags,” replied
the Vilna Gaon. “But you, my friend, have reversed the
process — you have made a rag out of paper!”
It Takes More than Brains
Congratulations were showered on Kaplan. His number 49
had won the top prize in the lottery.
“Say, Kaplan,” asked Goldstein, “how did you happen to
pick number 49?”
“I saw it in a dream. Six sevens appeared and danced be-
fore my eyes. Six times seven is 49, and that’s all there was
to it.”
“But, six times seven is 42, not 49.”
“Hah? . . . All right, so you be the mathematician!”
THE HUMAN COMEDY
246
The Diagnosis
A stranger came to town and called on a rich apikoiros.
“I’m a rabbi and a scholar and I am very sick. Please give
me a donation,” he asked.
Unimpressed with the man’s appearance, the freethinker,
who was also a bit of a scholar, began to feel his visitor’s in-
tellectual pulse.
“Tell me, my dear Rabbi, are you familiar with the Ram-
bam’s8 Guide to the Perplexed ?”
“Am I familiar with it! I studied it when I was thirteen!”
replied his visitor.
“Have you ever studied Rabbi Tolstoi’s Talmudic commen-
tary, ResurrectionT’
“What a question!” the stranger replied airily. “I know it
by heart! I studied it when I was a youth at the Yeshiva.”
“My friend,” remarked the freethinker with a smile, “in
my opinion you’re not so much a sick scholar as a healthy ig-
noramus!”
What Does It Matter ?
One day, complaining of a stomach ache, Tevye visited a
doctor. After due deliberation, with solemnity, the doctor in-
formed him that he had cancer.
“Cancer, shmancer,” said Tevye, gaily, “as long as I'm
healthy!”
Philosophy
For a long time Levy and Bernstein sat over their teacups,
saying nothing. At last Levy broke the silence. “You know,
Bernstein,” he said, “life is like a glass of tea.”
“Life is like a glass of tea . . . why?” asked Bernstein.
“How should I know,” said Levy, “am I a philosopher?”
Note to Obstetricians
Although he himself had been deprived of the opportunity
for an education, the wealthy Mr. Levine sent his only
daughter to a “finishing” school in Paris.
Upon her return to Cleveland she married and, in due
course of time, was taken to the maternity hospital.
DROLL CHARACTERS
247
When her obstetrician came to find out how she was doing
she moaned languorously: “ Mon dieu! Mon dieu!"
Doctor, doctor — quick, she’s giving birth!” gasped her fa-
ther m alarm.
..xw® d,°ftT0r indifferently shook his head and answered:
Not yeti Not yet!”
An hour later, when the daughter heard the doctor coming,
she waded elegantly: “Sauvez moi, Docteur!”
Doctor, doctor — quick, she’s giving birth!” cried Mr. Lev-
ine wringing his hands frantically.
“Not yet,” replied the doctor, looking bored.
A few minutes later a piercing shriek rang through the hos-
pital corridors.
“Oy, gewalt, Mama!”
She s giving birth now!” said the doctor to Mr. Levine as
ne humed into the daughter’s room.
The Dachshund
The great Russian landowner summoned his Jewish business-
agent and said to him-
“Here are twenty-five rubles — I want you to buy me a
dachshund!
“May it please Your Excellency,” urged the agent, “but
how“* p°ssible t0 buy a good dachshund for such a small
sum / Take my advice, give me fifty rubles and I’ll buy you a
dachshund that will be a dachshund!”
Good! agreed the landowner. “Here are twenty-five more
rubles — but make sure it’s a first class dachshund!”
“You can rest on that, Your Excellency,” the agent assured
nim.
And as he was about to leave he hesitated and asked apol-
ogetically: A thousand pardons, Your Excellency, but what
is a dachshund?”
2
Rogues and Sinners
Tricksters and Rogues
Introduction
Tricksters and rogues, and all other men who live by cunning
and deceit, are treated with almost condescending pity in the folk
tales of the Jews. This attitude is not difficult to explain about a
people one of whose cardinal religious beliefs is in God’s justice,
and in its corollary — that divine retribution must always follow
the evil that men do. Sooner or later, the ethical-minded Jew
maintains, it must catch up with the rascal and lay him low — if
not in this life, most certainly in the World-to-Come.
Scripture is full of comfort to the righteous when they bitterly
complain against the worldly good-fortune of rogues, and, con-
versely, against the frequent bedevilment on earth of the righ-
teous. “Fret not thyself because of evil-doers,” the Psalmist
consoles the good man, “neither be thou envious against the
workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like the
grass and wither as a green herb.” (Psalm 37.1, 2.) The Book of
Proverbs also offers the balm of solace to the suffering men of
virtue. It sees the good-fortune of the wicked as being only de-
ceptive and ephemeral. “Whoso diggeth a pit shall fall therein:
and he that rolleth a stone it will return upon him.” (Proverbs
26.27.)
According to Jewish folk-belief, the first evil men in the world
were those who lived in Sodom and Gomorrah in the days of the
Patriarch Abraham. Both the Bible and the Talmud tell of God’s
wrath against the inhabitants of those cities of sin. Because of
their wickedness, He vowed to destroy them root and stem but,
upon Abraham’s compassionate intercession, He agreed to spare
Sodom provided ten good men could be found there. But, when
Abraham failed to find even that modest number, God descended
upon the city in His wrath and destroyed it and all its wicked in-
habitants with fire and brimstone.
248
ROGUES AND SINNERS
249
In time, the Men of Sodom began to personify the genius of
evil to the Jewish folk. And thus we find many ancient Rabbinic
tales in which their wicked traits and diabolical cleverness are
graphically described for the edification of all posterity in order
that it be forewarned betimes and thereby avoid the terrible fate
of those unheeding evil-doers.
N.A.
The Thief Who Was Too Clever 7
A merchant went on a distant journey to buy goods. He
carried five hundred gold pieces in a bag. When he arrived at
his destination he began to get worried. He said to himself:
“I’m a stranger here and I don’t know a soul. If I carry the
money on me I may be robbed. Better that I conceal it until
I’m ready to make my purchases.”
With this thought in mind the merchant went to an unfre-
quented place. He looked cautiously about him and, con-
vinced that no one was looking, he dug a hole and concealed
his money in it. However, he did not know that there was an
opening in the wall of a house nearby and that someone had
seen him hide his money.
No sooner had the merchant left than the man who saw
him bury the bag of gold came out of his house and dug it
up.
Several days passed. The merchant was now ready to pay
for the goods he had bought. He therefore went to the spot
where he had buried his money. When he saw that it had
been stolen he was filled with despair.
“What will I do now?” he lamented. “From whom can I
claim my money? No one saw me bury it."
Troubled, the merchant began to look around him and
soon discovered the opening in the wall. He began to suspect
that the owner of that house was the likely thief. So he went
to him and said:
“I’ve heard it said that you’re a wise man and can give me
good advice. I came here to buy merchandise and I brought
with me two bags of gold. One was filled with five hundred
gold pieces; the other with eight hundred pieces. Since I’m a
stranger here and don’t know a soul, I decided to conceal the
bag with the five hundred gold pieces in a hole in the ground.
I still carry around with me the bag with the eight hundred
gold pieces, but I find it a great burden. Please advise me
THE HUMAN COMEDY
250
what to do; shall I keep it with me, shall I bury it in the same
hole with the other gold, or shall I look for another hiding
place for it? Possibly you might know of an honest man in
town to whose care I could entrust it.”
The man thought for a moment and replied with cunning:
‘Take my advice. Don’t entrust your money to anyone be-
cause it is possible that he might even deny that you ever
gave it to him. Also, I counsel you not to look for a new hid-
ing place but to bury your gold in the same hole with the
other bag.”
The thief reasoned this way: “It’s clear that this poor fool
doesn’t know yet that the bag with the five hundred gold
pieces is missing. Therefore, the best way to get his second
bag is to return the first bag to its place, because, if I don’t
do that, he will be afraid to bury the second bag there. In
that way I’ll get both bags.”
The merchant was fully aware that the thief would follow
such a course. Therefore, he said to him:
“Thank you for your good advice. I will do as you bid me
and will bury the gold after dark tonight.”
No sooner had the merchant left him than the thief went
in great haste to put the first bag of gold back in its place.
The merchant, who was hiding nearby, quickly dug up his
money and joyfully walked away.
You Can’t Fool God8
Two sisters, twins, lived in a certain town. They looked so
much alike that when they were together no one could tell
them apart. Although both sisters were married, one of the
two was a wanton and made a cuckold of her husband.
One day on a pretext this wanton told her husband that
she had to go to another town. Instead she had a secret meet-
ing with a lover. Upon her return her husband became very
suspicious and, being exceedingly troubled by his doubts, he
demanded that she go with him to the High Priest so that he
might prove her with the bitter waters. If the bitter waters she
drank did not harm her, it would be divine proof of her inno-
cence. On the other hand, should she be guilty, she would die
from the drink.
The woman had no alternative and was forced to go with
her husband to the High Priest for the ordeal. On the way
ROGUES AND SINNERS
251
they passed the house where her twin sister lived. With pre-
tended innocence she said to her husband:
“I beg you, my husband, let me go for a moment into the
house of my sister while you wait for me here.”
The sinful woman went into her sister’s house and said to
her:
“Help me, sister! My husband is outside waiting to take me
to the High Priest to put me through the ordeal of the bitter
waters. Now listen to me: There is something you can do for
me. We both look alike, and if you put on my clothes my
husband won’t know the difference. I know I’m a sinful
woman and the bitter waters will kill me. But you are inno-
cent and the waters cannot harm you. Go in my place and
you will save my life!”
And so the good sister changed garments with the faithless
one and went out to the waiting husband. Unsuspectingly, he
led her into the house of the High Priest. There she drank the
bitter waters and passed through the ordeal without harm.
“I pronounce this woman innocent!” cried the High Priest
“You have misjudged her,” he rebuked the husband.
Overjoyed, the man went home with his wife. On the way
they passed the sister’s house.
“Do wait for me here for one moment," begged the
woman, “while I tell my sister that I have safely passed
through the ordeal.”
The happy husband agreed. As she entered, the wanton sis-
ter ran to greet her with tears of gratitude in her eyes.
“You have saved my life!” she cried, embracing and show-
ering kisses on her.
But as she kissed her sister she inhaled from her mouth the
aroma of the bitter herbs and they entered into her body.
With a moan she fell to the floor, dead, her body swollen, her
belly split.
The Wise Rogue 9
A man once caught stealing was ordered by the king to be
hanged. On the way to the gallows he said to the governor
that he knew a wonderful secret and it would be a pity to al-
low it to die with him and he would like to disclose it to the
king. He would put a seed of a pomegranate in the ground
and through the secret taught to him by his father he would
make it grow and bear fruit overnight. The thief was brought
252
THE HUMAN COMEDY
before the king and on the morrow the king, accompanied hy
the high officers of state, came to the place where the thief
was waiting for them. There the thief dug a hole and said,
“This seed must only be put in the ground by a man who has
never stolen or taken anything which did not belong to him. I
being a thief cannot do it.” So he turned to the Vizier who,
frightened, said that in his younger days he had retained
something which did not belong to him. The treasurer said
that dealing with such large sums, he might have entered too
much or too little and even the king owned that he had kept
a necklace of his father’s. The thief then said, “You are all
mighty and powerful and want nothing and yet you cannot
plant the seed, whilst I who have stolen a little because I was
starving am to be hanged.” The king, pleased with the ruse of
the thief, pardoned him.
Justice in Sodom 10
There were four judges in Sodom. Their names were: Liar,
Falsifier, Bribe-taker and Swindler.
Whenever an inhabitant of Sodom came to the judges and
complained: “That wicked man has gone and cut my ass’s
ears off!” the judges would say: “Give your ass to that man,
and, as punishment, let him feed the ass until its ears grow
back again!”
Sodom’s Bed for Strangers 11
The inhabitants of Sodom constructed a wonderful bed for
the reception of strangers. If the stranger was too tall, they
amputated his legs to fit the bed. If he was too short, they
stretched him until they tore off a limb or two.
Once, when Eleazar came for a visit, they invited him to
lie on the bed.
He replied evasively: “Ever since my dear mother died I’ve
taken a vow never to sleep in a bed again.”
Charity in Sodom 12
The people of Sodom practiced charity in their own hypocrit-
ical way. Whenever a poor stranger used to ask for alms ev-
eryone would give him a gold piece on which was engraved
the name of the donor.
However, there was a town law that no stranger could buy
ROGUES AND SINNERS
253
food, so in time he’d die of hunger. Afterwards, each man
sorrowfully would come and take back his gold piece.
Example in Sodom 13
The rogues of Sodom had an odd custom. The man who
owned a cow was obliged to graze all the town’s cattle for
one day; he who had none was made to graze them for two
days.
Now there was a youth of Sodom, an orphan, who lived
with his poor mother. He owned no animal at all. But, fol-
lowing the custom, he was forced to graze all the cattle for
two days.
Enraged by this injustice, the orphan went and killed all
the cattle in Sodom. Then he said to the inhabitants, “Let
him who owned one cow come and take one hide. Let him
who had none, come and take two hides.”
“What kind of calculation is that?” cried the inhabitants.
“Don’t blame me! You yourselves set the example for me,”
answered the youth.
Cunning Against Greed 14
Once there was a cunning man who came to his rich neigh-
bor and asked him to lend him a silver spoon. The rich man
gave it to him. A few days later, the borrower returned the
spoon and with it a small spoon.
What is that for?” the rich man asked. “I lent you only
one spoon.”
“Your spoon,” the borrower replied, “gave birth to this
little spoon, so I have brought you back both mother and
child, because both belong to you.”
Although what the man said sounded foolish, the rich man,
who was avaricious, accepted both spoons.
A while later the cunning man again came to his rich
neighbor and asked that he lend him a large silver goblet.
The rich man did so. Several days later the borrower re-
turned with the goblet and with it a little goblet.
, “Your goblet,” he told him, “gave birth to this little goblet
Tm returning them because both belong to you.”
After a while the cunning man paid a visit to his rich
neighbor for the third time and said to him: “Would you
mind lending me your gold watch?”
“With pleasure!” answered the rich neighbor, thinking to
254
THE HUMAN COMEDY
himself that it would be returned to him together with a
small watch. So he gave him his watch which was set with di-
amonds.
One day passed, and another, and still another, but the
borrower failed to show up with the watch. The rich man be-
came impatient and went to the house of his neighbor to
make inquiry.
“What about my watch?” he asked.
The cunning borrower heaved a deep sigh.
“Alas!” he said. “I am sorry to tell you that your watch is
nebich dead! I had to get rid of it.”
“Dead? What do you mean dead?” cried the rich man an-
grily. “How can a watch die?”
“If a spoon can bear little spoons,” answered the cunning
man, “and if a goblet can bear little goblets, why should it
surprise you that a watch can die?”
The Way Tailors Figure
A man bought some material and went to see a tailor.
“Have I enough goods for a suit?” he asked.
The tailor measured the material carefully and said, “No.
It’ll never do. There just isn’t enough material.”
So the man went to see another tailor. He too measured
the goods carefully.
‘There’s enough material,” he said.
He took the measurements and told the customer the suit
would be ready in two weeks’ time.
When the man called for his suit, what was his amazement
to see that the tailor’s little boy was wearing a suit made out
of the same stuff as his own.
“See here,” he asked the tailor, “can you tell me why the
tailor across the street told me there wasn’t enough material,
and yet not only have you made me a suit out of it but have
had enough left to make a suit for your little boy?”
“Well,” replied the tailor, “you see, for me the material
was enough because I’ve only one boy — but for the other tai-
lor it would never do. He’s got two boys!”
He Was Underpaid
Once there was a tailor in Galicia and, although he sewed
clothes for the entire population of the town, he himself
walked about in tatters. He even would appear this way in
ROGUES AND SINNERS 255
synagogue on the Sabbath day to the mortification of all, par-
ticularly of the gabbed.
“Isn’t it a disgrace that you, a respectable tailor, should go
around dressed in rags?” the gabbai reproached him one day.
“What can I do? I’m a poor man and I’ve got to work all
the time to make a living,” replied the tailor piteously.
“Where do you think I’ll find the time to work on my own
clothes?”
“Here are two gulden,” said the gabbai. “Imagine I am one
of your customers and I am paying you to fix your own
coat.”
“Agreed!” cried the tailor with alacrity and he pocketed
the two gulden.
However, on the following Sabbath, when the tailor again
came to the synagogue, the warden noticed with annoyance
that he was still wearing the same ragged coat.
“What sort of behavior is this?” cried the gabbai angrily,
feeling he had been imposed upon, “Didn’t I give you two
gulden last week to mend your own coat? Anybody can see
you haven’t even touched it!”
“What am I to do?” the tailor apologized. “When I got
home and examined my coat I realized that I’d be losing
money on the job if I did it for two gulden!”
The Penitents
Two students of the Talmud came woebegone to their rabbi
and wailed: “Rabbi, we’ve committed a sin!”
“What have you done?”
“We looked with lust upon a woman!”
“God preserve you!” cried the rabbi. “You’ve indeed com-
mitted a terrible sin!”
“We wish to do penance, Rabbi!”
“In that case, I order you to put peas into your shoes and
walk about that way for a week. Then perhaps you’ll remem-
ber not to commit such a sin again.”
The two penitents went away and did as the rabbi told
them. Several days later they met on the street. One was hob-
bling painfully and looked haggard, but the other one was
calm and smiling. So the hobbler said to his friend reproach-
fully, “Is this the way you do penance? I see you haven’t fol-
lowed the rabbi’s orders. You didn’t put peas in your shoes!”
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“Of course I did!” insisted the other. “But I cooked them
first!”
One Shot Too Many
When the Passover holidays were drawing near, a Jewish
carpenter, who had been working in Gomel, was on his way
home to his little village with three months’ wages in his
pocket. As he was passing through a dark forest he suddenly
found himself looking into the muzzle of a robber’s gun.
“Hand over your money or I’ll shoot!” roared an evil-look-
ing bandit.
What could the poor man do? He gave him his money.
_ As the robber was stuffing the money into his pockets his
victim pleaded with him:
“See! It’s just before Passover. The money you took from
me was to have bought matzos, wine, chickens and new
clothes for my wife and children. Do you think my wife will
believe me when I go home and tell her that a robber in the
forest took my money?”
“That’s your affair!” growled the bandit.
At any rate, can’t you help me a bit, make everything look
real so that my wife will believe me?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Put a bullet through my cap.”
The robber laughed, threw the poor fellow’s cap into the
air and shot through it as it came down.
“Fine!” rejoiced the Jew. “Now fire into my coat.”
The robber sent a bullet through a comer of his coat.
“Once more,” pleaded the Jew, holding up the other comer
for him.
“No more bullets,” granted the bandit.
“In that case, my fine fellow, to the devil with you!” cried
the Jew, overjoyed. And he pummelled the rascal so hard
that he didn’t leave one whole bone in his body. Then, taking
back his money, he continued joyfully on his way home.
The Clever Thief
In a certain village they once caught a thief. So they laid
hold of him and beat him black and blue.
At this he raised a great outcry.
“Do with me what you like! Beat me, hang me, shoot
me — but for God’s sake, don’t throw me over the fence!”
ROGUES AND SINNERS 257
When the villagers saw how scared he was of being thrown
over the fence, they thought: “No doubt something terrible
awaits him there!” So they threw him over the fence, crying:
“Served the rascal right!”
When the thief found himself on the other side of the
fence he laughed heartily and ran away.
Very Very Antique
A man, who had a passion for old things, went into an an-
tique shop and asked the owner to show him some rare ob-
jects. The shopkeeper showed him an old watch.
My friend, here you see a watch that’s one of the seven
wonders of creation. Most certainly you know that the Ram-
bam (Maimonides) was a famous doctor? Well, this was his
watch. He used to look at it as he felt the pulse of his pa-
tients and he brought it with him after a visit to America.”
Jt What are you talking about?” marvelled the customer.
“How could the Rambam ever have been in America? When
he lived no one had even heard of America!”
. Precisely!” said the antique dealer. “That’s the wonder of
it. That’s what makes the watch so valuable!”
New Management
Otto Kahn, the well-known financier, was one day driving
through the lower East Side of New York when he saw a
large sign reading: “Samuel Kahn, cousin of Otto Kahn.” He
immediately called up his lawyer, instructing him to have the
sign changed, sparing no expense. A few days later, Kahn
drove by the place again. The offending sign had been
changed. It read: “Samuel Kahn, formerly cousin of Otto
Kahn.”
The Ways of a Rogue
A thief cast a longing eye on a cow that belonged to a
peasant.
One night, he knocked on the peasant’s door and said pite-
ously, “I’m a poor traveller— let me spend the night here!”
The peasant was kind-hearted and gave him a night’s lodg-
ing.
Hours later, while the peasant was fast asleep, the thief
went into the barn and stole the cow. He led it deep into the
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
woods, tied it to a tree, and then returned to the peasant’s
house.
Early in the morning, when the peasant arose, he found
the barn-door open and the cow gone. He looked high and
low but could not find it.
Then a suspicion occurred to him. “Maybe the stranger
took it!” He hurried into the house but he found the stranger
sound asleep. He shook him so that he awoke.
“What is the matter?” asked the thief, innocently.
“Someone has stolen my cow!” said the peasant.
“You poor man!” exclaimed the thief, pityingly.
Later, when it was safe to do so, the thief made his depar-
ture.
He went into the woods, untied the cow, and then sold it
to a peasant in the next village. But, as he left, he stole the
peasant’s horse and returned to the first peasant with it.
“I’ve come back to tell you,” he told him, “that, as God is
my witness, I saw your cow in a peasant’s barn in the next
village!”
Then, very casually, he offered to sell him the horse cheap.
The peasant bought it and the thief went away for the second
time.
The peasant then mounted the horse he had bought and
rode off to the next village to claim his cow.
Sure enough, he found her tied in a stall in the other
peasant’s barn.
“Thief!” cried the first peasant. “You stole my cow!”
“Thief yourself!” cried the second peasant. “You stole my
horse!”
“You’re a liar — I bought the horse!”
“Liar yourself — I bought the cow!”
And before you could pronounce Con-stant-i-no-ple they
were rolling on the ground, pummeling each other, while the
thief was on his way gleefully rattling the money in his pock-
ets and whistling a gay tune.
Professional Pride
The rabbi’s fur hat was stolen. The whole town was stunned
by the news. It was generally agreed that a professional thief
must have been the perpetrator of the crime. So the rabbi
sent for a man who was known as the leader of all the
thieves in town.
ROGUES AND SINNERS
259
“What do you think — will you be able to get back my fur
cap?” asked the rabbi.
“Well, that depends,” mused the thief. “In the event that
one of my disciples stole it, I promise I can get it back for
you. But if one of your own disciples stole it, then. Rabbi,
you had better forget about it!”
Honor among Thieves
Two beggars, one blind and the other a cripple, came to a
Jewish tenant-farmer and said they were hungry. The farm-
er’s wife placed a large bowl of cherries before them.
“You take one and I take one, but always wait for your
turn,” admonished the blind man with cunning for he was
afraid that his partner would try to cheat him.
“Agreed,” said the cripple readily.
Then they both attacked the cherries with relish.
For several minutes neither of them spoke, being too intent
on devouring the cherries. Suddenly, the blind beggar caught
the wrist of the cripple and raised an outcry: “Liar! Thief!”
“How dare you call me such names!” protested the
crippled beggar indignantly.
“What else should I call you — you wretch!” rasped the
blind man. “Here am I behaving like a gentleman and taking
only two cherries at a time hut just because I’m blind must
you take advantage of me and steal four at a time?”
“How in the world do you know I took four?” the cripple
asked startled.
“What else could it be?” shot back his blind companion.
“If for five minutes you didn’t say ‘bool’ while I ate two cher-
ries at a time it became perfectly clear to me that you were
cheating and taking at least four at a time!”
Liars and Braggarts
Introduction
In Rabbinical lore there were four classes of evil-doers who
would be denied the joys of the World-to-Come. They were the
hypocrites, talebearers, scoffers and liars. However, the Jewish
folk-attitude toward liars, as reflected in its tales and sayings, was
a great deal more tolerant. The liar, who is deceitful because of
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
corrupt aims, is, of course, considered a rogue. Yet there are li-
ars, and also braggarts, who are recognized as being quite
harmless, who tell untruths or exaggerate, not out of malice and
evil intention, but out of sheer perverseness and imaginativeness,
or because of some childish compulsion. About such liars and
braggarts, humorous Jewish lore makes merry. “A liar should
have a good memory,” it advises good-naturedly.
N.A.
The Strategists
Two rival Jewish merchants met in a railway station.
“Where are you going?” asked one.
‘To Pinsk.”
“Ahah!” said the other, “you tell me you are going to
Pinsk because you think I’ll figure you are going to Minsk.
But I happen to know you are going to Pinsk. So what’s the
idea of lying?”
Total Destruction
A poor man, whose house had burnt down, trudged from
town to town collecting alms with which to rebuild his house.
“Have you written proof that your house was burnt
down?” he was asked.
“Oh, the proof!” wailed the poor man. “That too, nebich,
was destroyed in the big fire!”
Veracity
A poor Jewish farmer called on his more affluent neighbor to
borrow his donkey.
“I’m sorry, neighbor,” said the well-to-do farmer, “but my
donkey is over in the pasture now.”
At that very moment the hee-haw of a donkey was heard
coming from the stable.
“What a foolish excuse to give me!” said the poor farmer
angrily. “Why, your donkey has just brayed in its stall!”
The well-to-do farmer became offended.
“Whom would you rather believe,” he asked with dignity,
“the braying donkey or me?”
ROGUES AND SINNERS
261
The Birds That Turned to Stone 15
King Solomon, the wisest of mankind, understood the lan-
guage of the birds of the air, the beasts in the forest, the fowl
in the barnyard and the fish in the sea. One day he sat at the
entrance to his palace on the Temple Mount, delighting in
the bright sky and clear daylight. Before him two cooing
birds caressed each other, twittering merrily.
As the King looked up he heard one bird say to his spouse,
“Who is this man seated here?” And she answered, “This is
the King whose name and fame fill the world.” Then the bird
answered in mocking pride, “And do they call even him
mighty? How is his power sufficient for all these palaces and
fortresses? Did I so desire I could overthrow them in a sec-
ond by fluttering one wing.”
His spouse encouraged him, saying, “Do so and show your
valor and power, if you have the strength to carry out your
words.” And Solomon, listening to the conversation in aston-
ishment signed to the bird to approach and asked him the
cause of his overweening pride.
Terrified, the trembling bird answered the august King,
“Let my Lord the King grant me forgiveness out of his lov-
ing-kindness and goodness of heart. I am naught but a poor
powerless bird who can do him no evil. All that I said was
only to please my wife and raise myself in her esteem.” And
Solomon laughed to himself and sent the bird back to his
spouse.
She, meanwhile, stood on the roof and could not contain
herself, waiting for her mate to return and tell her why the
King had sent for him. When he came back she asked ex-
citedly, “What did the King want?”
And his chest swelling with pride, he answered, “The King
heard my words and entreated me not to bring destruction
upon his court and not to carry out my purpose.”
When Solomon heard this he grew wroth with the brazen
bird and changed them both into stone slabs, to warn others
to refrain from vain bragging and empty boasting, and to
teach women folk not to incite their chosen ones in their van-
ity to undertake foolish and foolhardy deeds.
If nowadays you gaze at the southern wall of the Mosque
of Omar, which rises on the site of Solomon’s Temple, you
will see a marble slab set in a black border; it is veined
262
the human comedy
through with red in the likeness of two birds, and these are
the birds that Solomon turned to stone.
Miracles and Wonders
Two disciples of rival camps were bragging about their re-
spective wonder-working rabbis.
Take my rabbi,” began one disciple, “his like has not been
seen in the world before. He can do such wonders that would
raise your hair on end were you just to hear about them. The
other day, when he unexpectedly brought home some dinner-
guests, the rebbitzen told him: ‘I’ve only one fish in the pot!’
But do you think my rabbi was upset? Not at all! ‘Look again
in the pot,’ he told her. She looked — and what do you sup-
pose she found? Five fish!”
Don t brag!” chided the other disciple. “How can your
rabbi compare to mine? The other day he sat down to play
cards with the rebbitzen. She had four queens. So what do
you suppose my rabbi did? Very casually he laid his cards on
the table. He had five kings!”
“What sort of grandmother’s tale are you telling me!” pro-
tested the other disciple indignantly. “You know very well
there are only four kings!”
“I’ll tell you what then,” answered the other, “let’s make a
deal. You take out one fish from your rebbitzen’ s pot and I’ll
take a king away from my rabbi’s cards!”
Misers and Stingy Men
The Great Experiment
Once there was a miser who was very clever at thinking up
original ideas.
One day he decided that his horse was eating too much
oats.
“He’ll eat me out of my house!” he wailed.
So he decided to cut down on his horse’s feed, but not too
drastically, a little bit each day. In this way, he thought, the
creature would get accustomed to eating less.
As time went on, although the horse got thinner and thin-
ner, the miser was overjoyed to see that it did easily with less
food. Naturally, he thought he was a very smart man and
ROGUES AND SINNERS 263
went about bragging of his discovery. But one fine day, what
does his obliging horse do but stretch itself out and die!
As the miser looked down on the dead horse he muttered:
“A pity! What a pity! Just when I had almost got him
trained not to eat at all that stupid ass had to go ahead and
die!”
The Sweating Will
The town miser, who had never given a groschen in his life
to the poor, fell gravely ill. He was wracked with fever but
he could not perspire. It was absolutely necessary for him to
perspire if he was to live. And so the doctor tried, by all
homeopathic means, to induce him to sweat, but to no avail.
Frightened, the miser called for the rabbi. He confessed
and he drew up a will in which he left a large sum for char-
ity.
“Write it down, Rabbi! Write it down!” he cried. “It’s for
the good of my soul!”
And the rabbi wrote down everything the miser told him,
when suddenly the miser gave an unearthly cry: “Hold on.
Rabbi, I’m sweating!”
The Orphan
A rich man, who was a miser, was once asked to give a do-
nation to buy matzos for the poor. He gave a trifling sum to
the committee.
“Your son, who is a poor man, has given more generously
than you,” he was told ironically.
“How can you compare me to my son?” he replied. “He
has a father who’s a rich man. I have no father at all.”
He Got His Ruble Back
A rich man, who had been stingy all his life, suddenly sick-
ened and died.
As his spirit floated down into the other world the demons
seized hold of him by his hands and feet and whirled him
down to Hell.
At this he began to shriek: “Help! Let me go! I belong in
Paradise and not in Hell!”
“Only people who have done good on earth go to Heaven,”
the imps teased him.
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
“But I have one good deed to my credit,” wailed the spirit.
“What is that?” they asked him.
“Twenty years ago I gave a ruble to a poor man. I swear I
did! Look into your account book and you’ll see it’s entered
to my credit.”
The demons, not knowing what to do with him, sent a
messenger posthaste to consult God in the matter.
“Return his ruble to the wretch,” commanded God angrily,
“and send him straight to the Devil!”
The Miser
The ailing miser needed the aid of a specialist. Yet the fees
appalled him: $25 for a first visit and $10 for subsequent vis-
its. Still, it was life or death, and besides, he had an inspira-
tion.
As he entered the doctor’s inner office the miser exclaimed,
“Well, doctor, here I am again.”
The doctor examined the patient with great thoroughness,
then said, “And as for the treatment . . . just continue . . .
the same as before.”
Who Counts?
The guests were bidding their hosts farewell. “And I want to
tell you, Mrs. Liebowitz,” Mrs. Ginsberg concluded, “your
cookies were so tasty, I ate four.”
“You ate five,” Mrs. Liebowitz corrected, “but who
counts?”
A Sure Sign
Once a miser died. Even when the deceased was being
prepared for burial his wife did not cry. But no sooner had
the funeral procession started and the charity-collectors began
to rattle their tin boxes, crying: “Charity saves from death!”
when the wife burst into bitter weeping.
“Up till now you didn’t cry — why do you carry on so
now?” her son rebuked her.
“Why shouldn’t I cry?” wailed the widow. “Now that I see
that your father doesn’t run away when the charity-collectors
come around I’m definitely convinced he is dead!”
ROGUES AND SINNERS
265
Sinners
Introduction
The sinner is dealt with almost gently in Jewish belief and in
folklore. This is due to the ages-old cultivation among Jews of a
scorn for self-righteousness. The pious man says about an evil-
doer, even if he himself has been victimized by him: “Let God
judge him.” Or, if in anger he should speak harshly of him, he
hastens to add: “May God not punish me for the words.” Besides,
it is regarded wrong of anyone to imagine that he himself is
without sin: “There is not a just man upon earth that doeth good
and sinneth not.” (Ecclesiastes 7.20.)
There is a layer of mellow humanism in Jewish thought, secu-
lar as well as religious, which shrinks from harsh strictures
against the misconduct of others. “Live and let live,” is its benign
attitude. This springs, no doubt, from a practical realism which
starts out with the fundamental recognition that men are not an-
gels and that everybody has his weaknesses and limitations. After
all, sinning is a matter of degree — everybody sins, from the holy
rabbi down to the tavern roisterer!
In Jewish folk-humor the sinner gets a merry ribbing — but no
more. Frequently, however, as in the delightful stories, Saint and
Sinner. by the Preacher of Dubno, and in Heavenly Justice, he is
contrasted with scoffing hilarity to the overpious saint. Surpris-
ingly enough, he gets the better end of the treatment here. And
this, not because he is considered an admirable character. Far
from it. He serves merely as a convenient pretext to shoot a
barbed arrow at the holier-than-thou men who expect heavenly
rewards for their virtue. As such, these jokes about sinners and
saints have served as an excellent corrective in Jewish life, for
they preach the doctrine of the Golden Mean and warn against
fanaticism.
N.A.
Saint and Sinner 16
A rich man, who was a profligate, a souse and a lecher, died
in a certain town. The entire community mourned his death
and followed his hearse to his last resting place. What a
wailing, what a lamentation, was heard as his coffin was low-
ered into the grave! In the recollection of the oldest inhabit-
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
ant no rabbi or sage had ever departed this life amidst such
general sorrow.
It chanced that on the following day another rich man died
in the town: He was just the opposite of the first in character
and manner of living. He was ascetic and dined on practically
nothing but dry bread and turnips. He had been pious all the
days of his life and sat all the time in the House of Study
poring over the Talmud. Nonetheless, no one except his own
family mourned his death. His funeral passed almost unno-
ticed, and he was laid to rest in the presence of only a hand-
ful.
A stranger, who happened to be visiting in the town at the
time, was filled with wonder, and asked:
“Explain to me the riddle of this town’s strange behavior.
It honors a profligate yet ignores a saint!”
To this one of the townsmen replied:
“Know that the rich man who was buried yesterday, al-
though he was a profligate and a drunkard, was the leading
benefactor of the town. He was easy-going and merry and
loved all the good things in life. Practically everybody in this
town profited from him. He’d buy wine from one, chickens
from another, geese from a third, and cheese from a fourth.
And, being kindhearted, he’d pay well. That’s why he is
missed and we mourn after him. But what earthly use was
that other one, the saint, to anybody? He lived on bread and
turnips and no one ever made a kopek on him. Believe me,
no one will miss him!”
Heavenly Justice
A saint and a sinner died on the same day, and both ap-
peared before the Heavenly Judgment Seat to hear their re-
ward or punishment.
First the saint was called up.
“What reward, in your opinion, do you deserve?” the
Heavenly Judge asked him.
“I deserve Paradise,” he said confidently.
The angels laughed.
“What makes you think you’re so deserving?” the saint was
asked.
“I always lived uprightly,” answered the saint. “I studied
the Torah night and day. I faithfully observed all the six
hundred and thirteen regulations of piety. Furthermore, I
ROGUES AND SINNERS 267
renounced as evil all the pleasures of life, lived with my ugly
wife for fifty years and never was unfaithful to her.”
“Truly a tzaddikl" cried the angels rapturously.
“Just a moment!” called out the Accusing Angel. “I wish
to call a witness who will disprove this tzaddik’s hypocritical
claims!”
Thereupon, he called the soul of a tiny flea to the witness-
stand.
“Tell the Court what this man did to you,” the Accusing
Angel demanded of him.
The flea then spoke:
“One day, as I was taking a nap in his ear, what does this
brute do but stretch out his huge hairy hand and crush me to
death.”
“When did that happen?” asked the Accusing Angel.
“On a Sabbath.”
Triumphantly the Accusing Angel turned to the Court.
“Did the Court hear that?” he cried. “This ‘tzaddik’ killed
a defenceless little creature, God’s own creation, and on the
holy Sabbath, too!”
The angels began to murmur angrily amongst themselves.
“This is really a serious matter!” the Heavenly Tribunal
declared. “We cannot decide this case right away so the judg-
ment will have to wait until the coming of the Messiah. Until
that time, it is decreed that the accused tzaddik and the
witness flea shall both be confined in the same cell.”
And they led the tzaddik away.
Then tremblingly, the sinner came forward to be judged.
‘Tell us, what in your own opinion do you deserve?” the
Heavenly Tribunal asked him.
The sinner burst into sobs and wailed:
“God’s justice has at last caught up with me! I’ve no doubt
that the fiery caldrons of all the purgatories are already
boiling for me — and serves me right too! There isn’t a vice
that I didn’t practice, a sin that I didn’t commit, a holy pre-
cept I didn’t violate. I robbed widows and orphans, stole
from the charity-box, slandered all my neighbors and lusted
after strange women. But I’m fully reconciled to my fate —
pronounce your punishment and let us be done with it!”
“What a wretch!” cried the angels in horror. “He deserves
a place in the bottommost purgatory!”
“Just a moment!” cried the angelic counsel for the defen-
dant. “I wish to call a witness with whose testimony I will
268
the human comedy
prove that not only was this man not the villain that he has
painted himself but is in fact a saint, a noble creature!”
And he called to the witness stand the soul of a charming
young widow.
“You tell your story,” he bade her.
“?ne day,” she began, “while I was all alone a fire broke
out in the house. Soon the flames enveloped it and I was in
danger of being burned alive, when this good man, hearing
my cries for help, broke through the flames and rescued me1”
The angels were amazed. “He’s not such a bad sort after
all!” they murmured.
;This is a very baffling case!” declared the Heavenly
Tribunal. “Judgment is therefore postponed until the coming
of the Messiah. In the meantime, we order that both accused
and his witness be confined in one cell and wait for the first
blast from the shofar of Redemption!”
Filial Love11
A rich man, having confidence in his son, gave him all his
property in his lifetime. After a while the son commenced to
neglect his father, ill-treating him and sending him awav to
be among the beggars.
One day the old man, clad in tatters, met his grandson and
asked him to beg his father to let him have a mantle to cover
himself, as it was so cold.
After much begging the father sent his son up to the loft
and told him to fetch a certain mantle which was hanging on
a hook. Whilst on the loft the boy took a knife and cut the
mantle in half.
The father, wondering what the boy was doing all that
time, went to find out. The son told him that he had been
busy cutting the mantle in half and added that he would give
his grandfather one half and keep the other half for his own
father when he grew old.
. Th® man was greatly surprised at this reply and, recogniz-
ing the wickedness of his action, took his father back and
treated him with all honour.
Relativity
Yoshke the Drunkard died. Members of the Burial Society
came and prepared him for his final rest. When the body was
lowered into the grave not one pious man had a good word
ROGUES AND SINNERS 269
to say for the wretch with which to send him off into the life
everlasting.
Just as the grave-digeer lifted his spade to cover the coffin
with earth a compassionate old Jew cried out:
“Just a moment! How can we let the dead depart from this
life without a good word from those of us who knew him?
Believe me, he was not as bad as you think! I myself know
that he has a son in New York who is a thousand times
worse a guzzler than he ever was!’’
The members of the Burial Society heaved a sigh of relief.
“What a pious man he was!” they exclaimed heartily.
When Prayer Is No Help
A saint and a sinner were once fellow passengers on an
ocean voyage. Suddenly a storm broke. The ship seemed in
danger of sinking. Thereupon all the crew and the passengers
began to pray.
“Save us, O Lord!” cried the sinner.
“Sh-sh!” warned the saint. “Don’t let God know you are
here or it will be the end of all of us!”
Absent-Minded
A group of young miscreants were caueht redhanded break-
ing the Sabbath peace. They were smoking, playing cards and
doing other things forbidden on the Sabbath.
On the following day, when they were brought up on
charges before the rabbi, he sternly demanded an explanation
of them.
The first said: “Rabbi, I was absent-minded; I forgot that it
was the Sabbath.”
‘That could be,” said the rabbi, stroking his beard reflec-
tively. “You are forgiven!”
The second said: “I also was absent-minded; I forgot that
one mustn’t gamble on the Sabbath.”
“That could be,” said the rabbi, stroking his beard reflec-
tively. “You are forgiven.”
Then the turn came for the owner of the house in which
the young men had been found desecrating the Sabbath.
“And what is your excuse?” asked the rabbi. “Were you
absent-minded too?”
“Indeed I was, Rabbi,” answered the man regretfully.
270
the human comedy
“What did you forget?”
“I forgot to pull the curtains down!” said the man.
From Bad to Worse
^s3d:rabbi Sat d6eP “ th°Ught’ a youth came before
1 want to confess— rm guilty of a great sin I
faded w?y, ,grace one day last month ” g 1
l SK-tsk! murmured the Rabbi. “How can anv Jew eat
without saying grace?” y Jew eat
hands?’^ COUld 1 Say graC6’ Rabbi> when 1 hadn’t washed my
the Rabbi‘ “How can a Jew swallow a
mouthful without first washing his hands?”
tRabbi’ the food was not kosher.”
“But C3u a Jew eat food that’s not kosher?’
Ihe home of a Gemikr W°r‘d ko!her; “ "» »
hoo™f'a Ge“„,nir ab'6 aPO!“el H°W “ «“
,™tgabbi’ Jew was willing to feed me!”
fS t Wlcked he!” cried the Rabbi. “Who has ever
h “But Raa£T” Sin! f°u°d t0 anybody who is hungiy?”
me But Rabbi, argued the youth, “it was the Day of Atone-
3
Traditional Types
An entire gallery of distinctive traditional types has been
created by the volatile forces in Jewish life. They are all to be
muet with in folklore, many of them in colorful humorous garb.
Though different from one another, every type had an organic
unity with the rest, because all emerged from the same social-cul-
tural environment. The confined ghetto of bygone days, in which
Jews led their own semi-autonomous existence, was an entertain-
ing as well as a tragic microcosm.
Jew, an adept at the Wise King’s teaching to do every-
thing in its own season, found time to scoff as well as to revere,
to be skeptical as well as to extoll. This was not done from
caprice or malice, but rather out of good-humored raillery,
prompted by a recognition that the noblest and the wisest also
have their comic and foolish sides. Therefore, all life passed in
review before the folk-humorist who was no respecter of persons
or of the degree of their eminence. Everybody without exception
was a candidate for the butt of his jokes: preachers and rabbis,
scholars and teachers, sextons and charity collectors, cantors and
marriage brokers, waiters and innkeepers, doctors and patients,
tailors and butchers, shopkeepers and peddlers, rich men, poor
men, philanthropists and misers. In short, it was the procession of
the whole Jewish people, a motley array of characters in all of
their complex laugh-provoking relationships.
Take the .hazzan, the synagogue cantor. He often is as vain of
himself and his art as any operatic tenor, a prey to all the tan-
frums and exhibitionism of the artistic temperament. Yet he has
his special characteristics due probably to the peculiar role he
plays in the congregation. More often than not he serves as a
cause of contention among its members. Either he is idolized and
hero-worshipped as a nightingale of God, or he serves as the
butt of the sarcastic jokes of his deriders.
It is well known that there are among Jews many passionate
music lovers. There is hardly one among the pious who doesn’t
think of himself as a bit of a sagacious musical critic in matters
271
272
THE HUMAN COMEDY
of the cantorial art. He is avid in discussing and analyzing all the
technical faults of a cantor, ready to point out his inferior musi-
cianship or his lack of understanding of the text in his interpreta-
tion. And just like an Italian opera enthusiast, who performs a
musical autopsy on a singer, the cantorial connoisseur too con-
trasts his victim’s failings with the virtues of more favored can-
tors. However, because there are more cantors there are also
more carping musical critics among Jews.
The cantor himself does not always enjoy the congregational
civil war over him. Being sensitive, like any other artist, he takes
offence easily. He is ready to hand in his resignation upon the
slightest provocation. In fact, many cantors never let the
synagogue grass grow under their feet, but are constantly on the
lookout for other posts; the cantorial pasture always looks
greener elsewhere.
It was the great poverty of the Jews in Europe that made them
regard the few Jewish millionaires with awe, and sometimes
even with incredulity. Because of the isolation of ghetto life a
Rothschild or a Montefiore was largely a legendary creature to
them. They tried to reconstruct in imagination the sort of world
in which these rich men lived. And out of this fantasy came a
number of stories in which, with studied innocence and sly ban-
ter, was depicted the life of luxury they were supposed to
lead — the way they did business, dispensed charity and ran their
households.
It was only natural that the many philanthropies of the
Rothschilds and the Brodskys should have attracted them, like
flies to honey, all the schnorrers in creation. There are, ac-
cordingly, many anecdotes about Rothschild’s encounters with
these buzzards. Now, of course, when Jews said “Rothschild” it
wasn’t necessarily any particular member of that large family
they had in mind; it was a generic name for all Jewish mil-
lionaires.
Perhaps the wittiest of all these anecdotes are those which
describe the pity of the poor for the pleasures of the rich, as in
Montefiore’s Buttons and Rich Man’s Folly. In this connection it
is interesting to point out that it was this same humorous pity for
the rich which led to the adoption by East Side Jewish folklore of
John D. Rockefeller. “Poor Rockefeller!” the Yiddish folksay
runs commiseratingly. “He’s the richest man in the world and just
look at him — all he can eat is crackers and milk!”
Perhaps peculiar to the American scene alone is the old-time
Jewish restaurant waiter. You never see him flatter or kowtow to
his customers. He is proud of his independence and, because of
the jealousy with which he guards it, he frequently acts with de-
fensive gruffness. To a genial, submissive customer he acts like a
TRADITIONAL TYPES
273
protector, a patron, even like a father — advising, warning, lectur-
ing and scolding. He tells him what’s good and what’s bad for his
health, what to choose on the menu and what to avoid like the
plague.
But woe to the arrogant high-and-mighty customer! He not
only browbeats him but shrivels him with scorn. And if he pro-
vokes him too much he tells him straight up and down to go to
another restaurant — or to the devil! In fact, a customer rash
enough to offend a Jewish waiter is liable to remember the en-
counter with lingering indigestion, and that not so much from the
food he ate, but from the near apoplexy brought on by the ex-
citement of the collision. Yes, the old-time Jewish waiter is an up-
standing mettlesome fellow, and it is these traits of his which are
mirthfully recorded in anecdote.
N.A.
Rothschild and Other Rich Men
His Bad Luck Held
A petitioner once came to see the great banker Rothschild
in Vienna.
“I’ve been having a lot of bad luck all my life,” he com-
plained.
“What is your profession?” asked the banker politely.
“I’m a musician. I played for years in the Philharmonic
Orchestra but ever since it was disbanded I haven’t been able
to get any employment.”
“Too bad, too bad,” murmured Rothschild commiser-
atingly. “What sort of instrument do you play, anyway?”
“I play the bassoon.”
“The bassoon!” echoed Rothschild, his face lighting up.
“That’s wonderful! You must have heard how much I love
good music. In fact, I have a surprise for you — I own a bas-
soon! I’m simply crazy about the bassoon; it’s my favorite or-
chestral instrument! Come, my friend, let’s go into the music
room and you’ll play me something on the bassoon.”
“What was I telling you, Herr Baron?” wailed the peti-
tioner. “I’ve never had anything but bad luck in my life. Of
all instruments I might have mentioned I had to go and pick
a bassoon!”
THE HUMAN COMEDY
274
Discovery at 7 a.m.
The banker Baron de Rothschild of Paris was a hard task-
master to his clerks. Once, he called them together and said,
It’s about time that you all came into the counting house
early. From now on you have to report to work at seven a.m.
To set you all an example in punctuality I will do the same.
And what I, Rothschild, can do all of you can do!”
Then up spoke a thin frightened little clerk, “Monsieur le
Baron, it may be all right for you to come in an hour earlier.
That way you have the pleasure of discovering one hour ear-
lier each day that you are the mighty Baron de Rothschild.
But take me, for instance, Jacques Velvel-Shmul — when I
come in an hour earlier what do I discover? I discover, Mon-
sieur le Baron, one hour earlier than usual than I am the
clerk, Jacques Velvel-Shmul, whose salary is seventy-five
francs a month — woe is me!”
Whose Money?
The famous Viennese Jewish wit and author, Saphir, was a
protege of Baron Rothschild, for he could never make a liv-
ing out of his writing. His dependence on the largesse of the
banker embittered him no end.
One day, when he came for his annual stioend. Rothschild
spoke to him in a bantering tone of voice: “Ah, Saphir, I see
you’ve come for your money!”
“For my money, Baron?” retorted Saphir ironically. “You
mean — for your money.”
Living de Luxe
In the Jewish cemetery at Frankfort-Am-Main lies the mag-
nificent grave of Reh Amshel Rothschild, the founder of the
famous banking family.
One day a poor man from Galicia came to see the grave
and stood marvelling at the tombstone’s beauty and costliness.
Tsk-tsk, that s what I call living!” he murmured to himself
in rapture.
Rothschild’s Poverty
Bernstein the schnorrer was passing Rothschild’s house one
day when Epstein the schnorrer was bodily thrown out of it.
TRADITIONAL TYPES 275
“What happened to you?” asked Bernstein, when his col-
league had picked himself up.
‘They claimed in there,” said Epstein, “that they kicked
me out because I was making too much noise, but they can’t
fool me! Things are bad with Rothschild; I just saw, in that
big parlor, his two girls playing on one piano!”
The Rights of Schnorrers
For several years two brothers had presented themselves at
the home of Rothschild once a month and each had been
given 100 marks. Then, one died, so the survivor made the
usual call alone.
The keeper of the Rothschild funds handed him the usual
100 marks.
“But you’ve made a mistake!” the schnorrer protested. “I
should get 200 marks, 100 for my brother.”
“No,” said the treasurer, “your brother is dead. This is your
hundred.”
“What do you mean?” The schnorrer drew himself up in-
dignantly. “Am I my brother’s heir ... or is Rothschild?”
Montefiore’s Buttons
‘They say that when Sir Moses Montefiore was received by
the Czar he wore a fancy dress-coat on which the buttons, all
ten of them, were of gold and each one was studded with a
diamond worth five thousand rubles!
“Now I ask you — aren’t the rich first-class idiots? What on
earth makes them do silly things like that? Take me, for in-
stance. On my Sabbath gabardine I have three buttons. All
three of them together are worth half a groschen. Should I
lose one — so what? It’s like losing a chick-pea. But imagine
that Montefiore — how he must fuss and take care and keep
watch over his precious buttons! Should he lose one — good-
bye to five thousand smackers! Tell me your honest opinion,
do you think he sleeps nights? Achl the pleasures of the
rich!”
The Price of a Millionaire
When the millionaire Brodsky came to a small Ukrainian
town all the inhabitants poured out into the streets to wel-
come him. With official pomp he was led to the inn where he
276
THE HUMAN COMEDY
ordered two eggs for breakfast. When he had finished, the
innkeeper asked him for twenty rubles. Brodsky was aston-
ished.
“Are eggs so rare in these parts?” he asked.
“No, but Brodskys are!” was the quick answer.
The One to Call the Tune
Nathanson, the wealthy millinery supply wholesaler, lay dy-
ing. He motioned to his wife to come nearer to his bedside.
“Leah, I neglected to draw up a will,” he began in a weak
voice. “Listen carefully to what I’m going to tell you:
“First of all, Pm leaving the business to Irving.”
“You’re making a mistake,” protested his wife tearfully.
“Irving has only one thing on his brain — horses. He’ll surely
ruin the business! I think you’d do better if you left it to
Max; he’s serious minded and steady.”
“Good — let it be Max then,” sighed the dying man
resignedly.
“Our summer house in the Catskills I leave to Rachel,”
Nathanson continued.
“Rachel!” exclaimed his wife. “What does Rachel need our
summer home for? Her husband is rich enough. It would be
better if you gave it to Julia who is poor.”
“Very well,” sighed her husband. “Let Julia have it. Now,
as for the car, I leave it to Benny.”
“Benny?” asked his wife in surprise. “What does Benny
need your car for? Hasn’t he got one already? Believe me,
Louie could make much better use of it!”
At this a look of exasperation came into the dying man’s
face. Collecting his ebbing strength he cried, “Listen, Leah!
Who’s dying around here — you or I?”
True Grief
At the funeral of the richest man in town a great many
mourners turned out to pay their last respects t p the dead.
Among the multitude was a poor man who heaved deep sighs
as he followed the hearse.
“Are you a close relation of the deceased?” someone asked
him commiseratingly.
“I’m no relation at all!” he replied.
“Then why do you weep?”
“That’s why.”
TRADITIONAL TYPES
277
Steam-Bath Soliloquy
“Believe me, uncle, it’s a topsy-turvy world! The rich mer-
chants have all the money in the world, yet they’re the ones
who are being stuffed with credit and goods, but the poor
little shopkeeper who never has a broken groschen in his till,
he’s got to pay cash for everything! If there was justice in the
world wouldn’t they arrange things just the opposite? The
rich merchant who has plenty of money would be forced to
pay cash and the little shopkeeper who hasn’t a groschen
would get plenty of credit. Would that be so terrible? Under
my plan, suppose the poor shopkeeper cannot afford to pay
his bills. So what? The rich merchant who extends him the
credit will therefore lose money and will probably become
poor, too. Where’s the tragedy? Once he’s a poor man he’ll be
entitled to unlimited credit. So what’s there to worry about
for anyone?”
Rich Man’s Folly
A poor man ran home in haste and told his wife breathlessly,
“I’ve just been to see the richest man in town and I found
him at dinner eating blintzes. As I stood there and smelled
their delicious fragrance, the juices in me began to work.
Those blintzes certainly must taste wonderful! Believe me
when rich men eat something, it’s something."
Then the poor man sighed longingly. “Oh, if I could only
taste blintzes just once!”
“But how can I make blintzes ? I need eggs for that,” an-
swered his wife.
“Do without the eggs,” her husband advised.
“And ril need cream.”
“Well, you’ll have to do without the cream.”
“And you think sugar doesn’t cost any money?”
“You’ll have to do without sugar, then.”
The wife then set to work and made the blintzes, but with-
out eggs, cream and sugar. With a judicious air the husband
started to eat them, chewed them slowly and carefully. Then
suddenly a look of bewilderment came into his face. “Let me
tell you, Sarah,” he murmured, “for the life of me, I can’t see
what those rich people see in blintzesl”
278 THE HUMAN COMEDY
Credit Too Good
Kogan borrowed a hundred rubles from Katz, promising to
repay him in a week. And he did, much to Katz’s surprise.
A few days later, again needing funds, Kogan borrowed
another hundred rubles, again agreeing to pay it back in a
week. Once more he kept his word.
Not long after, Kogan asked for another hundred, but this
time Katz said, “Enough’s enough! Twice already you’ve
fooled me! Three times would be too much to expect!”
A Father with Foresight 18
Once there was a rich man who owned a factory and other
business establishments. In addition, he was the proprietor of
the only wine-house in town. He had two sons and heirs: one
was respectable and well-behaved, the other was a roisterer
and spendthrift.
A time came when the rich man felt that he was reaching
his end. So he drew up a will in which he left his factory and
all his other properties to his profligate son. To his good and
upright son he left only the wine-house.
When his friends heard of this they reproached him, say-
ing, “How did you come to do such a silly thing? Why are
you leaving the bulk of your wealth to that good-for-nothing
sot who will only waste the wealth you accumulated with the
effort of a lifetime?”
_ “Believe me,” said the rich man, “I have carefully con-
sidered the matter. Were I to leave the wine-house to my
good-for-nothing son there’s no doubt that he’d drink it all
away in no time with his boon companions. In the end, his
creditors would take it away from him. Therefore, in order to
prevent this situation from arising, I have left the wine-house
to my sober, well-behaved son, and my other possessions to
his brother. You see it’s all very simple! Because my wine-
shop is the only one in town, it is certain that my profligate
son will go to drink there with his bad companions. I have no
doubt that he will thus fritter away the factory and every-
thing else. In that case it will be my good son who, in the
long run, will not only have the wine-shop but will also ac-
quire the rest of my wealth.”
TRADITIONAL TYPES
279
Tailors
Out of Style
The tailoring business was so bad that Feitelberg said to his
partner, “Only the Messiah could help us.”
“How could even the Messiah help us?” asked the partner
in despair.
“Why,” said Feitelberg, “he’d bring back the dead, and
naturally they’d need new clothes.”
“But some of the dead are tailors,” the partner observed
gloomily.
“So what?” asked Feitelberg. “They wouldn’t have a
chance! How many would know this year’s styles?”
Both from Minsk
A Czarist police inspector, glittering in his gold-braid uni-
form, was walking through the streets of Moscow when he
passed an anemic little Jewish tailor who failed to doff his cap.
“Here, Jew!” he roared angrily and seized the unlucky tai-
lor by the scruff of his neck and shook him until his teeth
rattled. “What do you mean by passing me without removing
your cap! I won’t be surprised if you haven’t even a residence
permit! Quick, tell me — where do you come from?”
“From Minsk,” stammered the Jew.
“Now, what about your hat?” rasped the police inspector,
kicking him in the shins.
“Also from Minsk,” stuttered the tailor
Napoleon and the Jewish Tailor 19
While the Emperor Napoleon was retreating from Russia he
passed through a Jewish village as he fled before the enemy.
Seeing that all avenues of escape were cut off he dashed into
a house in which lived a Jewish tailor.
In a tremulous voice he pleaded with the tailor, “Hide me
quick! If the Russians find me they’ll kill me!”
Although the little tailor had no idea who the stranger was
he was moved by pity for a fellow-creature. So he said to the
Emperor, “Get under the featherbed and lie still!”
Napoleon got into bed and the tailor piled on him one
featherbed, and another, and then still another.
280
THE HUMAN COMEDY
It wasn’t long before the door burst open and two Russian
soldiers with spears in their hands rushed in.
“Is there anybody hiding here?” they asked.
“Who would be foolish enough to hide in my house?” the
tailor answered.
The soldiers pried into every corner but found no one. As
they were leaving, just to make sure, they stuck their spears
several times through the featherbeds.
When the door had finally closed on them Napoleon
crawled out from under the pile of featherbeds. He looked
deathly pale and was covered with perspiration. Then turning
to the tailor he said, “I want you to know, my dear noble
friend, that I am the Emperor Napoleon. Because you have
saved me from certain death you can ask me three favors.
No matter what they are I will grant them to you.”
The little tailor thought for a while, then he said, “Your
Majesty, the roof of my house has been leaking for the past
two years but I’ve never had any money to fix it. Would you
be so kind and have it fixed for me?”
“Blockhead!” exclaimed Napoleon impatiently. “Is that the
greatest favor you can ask of an Emperor? But never
mind — I’ll see that your roof is fixed! Now you can make
your second wish, but make sure this time that it’s something
substantial.”
The little tailor scratched his head. He was really per-
plexed. What on earth could he ask for? His face suddenly
brightened.
“Some months ago, Your Majesty,” he began, “another tai-
lor opened his shop across the way and he is ruining my
business! Would it be too much trouble for you to ask him to
find himself another location?”
“What a fool!” cried Napoleon disdainfully. “Very well,
my friend — I’ll ask your competitor to go to the devil! Now
you must try and think of something that’s really important.
Keep in mind though that this is positively the last favor I’ll
grant you!”
The tailor knitted his brows and thought and thought. Sud-
denly an impish look came into his eyes.
“Begging your pardon, Emperor,” he asked with burning
curiosity, “but I’d very much like to know how you felt while
the Russian soldiers were poking their spears through the
featherbeds!”
“Imbecile!” cried Napoleon beside himself with rage. “How
281
traditional types
dare you put such a question to an Emperor? For your inso-
lence I’ll have you shot at dawn!”
So said, so done. He called in three French soldiers who
placed the little tailor in irons and led him away to the
guardhouse.
That night the tailor could not sleep. He wept and quaked,
quaked and wept. Then he recited the prayer of confession
and made his peace with God.
Promptly at dawn he was taken out of his cell and tied to
a tree. A firing squad drew up opposite him and aimed their
muskets at him. Near by stood an officer with watch in hand
waiting to give the signal to fire. He lifted his hand and be-
gan to count: One — two — thr — ” But before he could even
complete the word, the Emperor’s aide-de-camp dashed up on
horseback, crying, “Stop! Don’t shoot!”
Then he went up to the tailor and said to him, “His
Majesty, the Emperor, gives you his gracious pardon. He also
has asked me to give you this note.”
The tailor heaved a deep sigh and began to read, “You
wanted to know,” wrote Napoleon, “how I felt under the
featherbed in your house. Well, now you know.”
Scholars and Scripture Teachers
Etiquette Among Scholars
A rich man once invited two hungry scholars to tea. They
came, sat down at the table and began to discuss Torah, for
what other pastime do Jews have? As they got themselves
well tangled up in Talmudical argument, the hostess entered
and placed before them glasses of tea with lemon. Then she
brought m a platter with two cookies. It so happened that one
cookie was somewhat larger than the other. Understanding
etiquette very well, neither of the two scholars wished to be
the first to reach for the cookies.
One said gallantly, “You first, Reb Yankel.”
“No, no! Help yourself first, Reb Isaac!” urged Reb Yankel
with equal delicacy.
Finally, after much aimless feinting, Reb Yankel suddenly
reached out and took a cookie — but he chose the larger one.
Reb Isaac looked on dumbfounded.
How is it, Reb Yankel,” he chided him in an injured tone
282
the human comedy
of voice, * that a scholar like you should be so utterly without
table manners? How could anybody be so rude as to grab for
himself the bigger portion and leave the smaller one to an-
other?”
“Nu, and what would you have done in my place?” asked
Reb Yankel.
“What do you mean what would I have done? As a man
who knows etiquette I most certainly would have taken the
smaller cookie.”
“Well, that’s what you got,” answered Reb Yankel sweetly.
“So what are you getting excited about?”
Goal Achieved
A certain melamed was in the habit of snatching a quiet
drink while his students droned on. But in the course of time
this became known and he lost all his pupils.
A friend, moved by the teacher’s sad situation, tried to in-
duce him to reform. “Look, Chatzkl,” he pleaded, “if only
you’d give up drinking, you’d have all your pupils back.
Come on, try and give it up!”
“You’re a fool!” the melamed replied. “Here for years I’ve
been teaching so I’d be able to drink . . . and you suggest I
stop drinking, so I’ll be able to teach!”
Strictly Kosher
The teacher of Scripture in a little Polish town got sick and
tired of his drudgery and of suffering cold and hunger. He
decided to become a robber.
One day, he took a knife from the kitchen and went into
the woods. Hiding behind a tree he lay in ambush for pass-
ersby. At last he saw a rich lumber dealer in the town trudg-
ing along unsuspectingly. Without a word, he threw himself
upon him and raised his knife as if to stab him. Suddenly he
seemed to recall something and let the knife drop to the
ground.
“It’s your luck,” he muttered. “I just remembered that this
is a milchig knife!”
Potatoes
A poor Talmud student was making the rounds from one
householder to another. Each one, out of the goodness of his
heart and as an act of piety, gave him food and lodging for
traditional types
283
withTll frf' In °"e 0f the/e homes- however, he was treated
T* *n'8rtCe and, in a Perfunctory manner. Three times daily
they gave him only one dish to eat — potatoes y
One day, when he saw the platter of potatoes being placed
before him, he shuddered and asked his host, “Tell me.
ple“®> ’'hat is the benediction that is said over potatoes?”
What a question to ask!” exclaimed his host. “You’re a
Talmud student, aren’t you? Why, even the most ignorant
man knows that you say: ‘Blessed are the fruits of the earth ’
over everything which comes out of the soil.”
That may be so,” retorted the Talmud student, “but what
should I say when the potatoes are coming out of my ears?”
Merchants, Shopkeepers, Peddlers
To Save Time
On the express train to Lublin, a young man stopped at the
seat of an obviously prosperous merchant.
“Can you tell me the time?” he said.
'Hie merchant looked at him and replied: “Go to hell!”
“What? Why, what’s the matter with you! I ask you a civil
question, in a properly civil way, and you give me such an
outrageous, rude answer! What’s the idea?”
The merchant looked at him, sighed wearily, and said,
Very well. Sit down and I’ll tell you. You ask me a question
I have to give you an answer, no? You start a conversation
with me— about the weather, politics, business. One thing
leads to another. It turns out you’re a Jew — I’m a Jew. I live
m Lublm— you’re a stranger. Out of hospitality, I ask you to
my home for dinner. You meet my daughter. She’s a beauti-
ful girl— you re a handsome young man. So you go out to-
gether a few times— and you fall in love. Finally you come to
ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage. So why go to all that
trouble. Let me tell you right now, young man, I won’t let
my daughter marry anyone who doesn’t even own a watch!”
A Tradesman’s Revenge
Several merchants sat at a table in an Odessa restaurant ab-
sorbed m conversation about business affairs. Every once in a
while a peddler came up to them and pestered them to buv
something from him. 7
284
the human comedy
I have fine handkerchiefs, and scarves that are beauties,
and com purses that are A-l,” he called out in a raucous voice.
patience with him, one of the merchants said,
™?‘, ° y°u say to this pest! I’d like to play a trick on him
that he 11 never forget.”
And turning to the peddler, he asked, “Do you have any
suspenders, uncle? But they must be A-l.”
‘‘mat a question!” cried the peddler with an offended air.
Do I have A-l suspenders!” And quickly he fished out a
£°areSAPieAd-L” ^ A‘U bUt’ beHeVe me’
“How much?”
“Two rubles.”
Without a word the merchant paid the two rubles and the
peddler walked away with a dazed look on his face.
^as J_he idea?” asked a colleague of the merchant
who had bought the suspenders. “Why did you immediately
pay him what he asked?” 3
, r,,fear’ struck home,” replied the merchant with
glee. He 11 eat his heart out now because he didn’t ask for
three rubles.
A Kindness
f”Cr<? Anu WaS notorious not paying his bills,
his good friend Abrams was astonished one day to find him
hagglmg endlessly over a deal. He took the merchant aside.
Dook, he said, “I can’t understand you. You know you
brutally?”1 ^ ^ anyway> so why do y°u bargain so
“Listen,” said the merchant, “he’s a nice guy, and I want
to keep down his losses!”
The Rich Uncle
Once there was a retired New York merchant who owned a
rf® summer home in the Catskill Mountains. He had a kind
heart and because of that his summers became a nightmare
ror mm. With the appearance of the crocuses and with the
BroJncU-u VeS x°,f the robin 3,1 his P00r relations from
Brownsville, East New York, Midwood and West Bronx de-
scended upon him in the country in force. They never gave
Thl0n%atS Peace °r Privacy until the leaves began to
turn. Then they returned to New York.
TRADITIONAL TYPES
285
One day, as he sat gloomily regarding a young third
cousin-in-law upon whom a thousand hints had been wasted,
he sighed and said, “There is little likelihood, is there, that
you’ll ever come on another visit here?”
“What a thing to say!” protested the young man with heat.
“Why, you are the prince of hosts! Why shouldn’t I come
again?”
“How can you come again if you never go away?” moaned
his host plaintively.
Production Worries
Friedman the clothier was distressed at the haggardness of
his partner Weinberg, who suffered from insomnia. “I’ll bet
you,” he said to him, “you never tried the commonest
remedy, after all your specialists.”
“What’s this commonest remedy?”
“Counting sheep.”
“All right,” said the sick man. “What can I lose? Tonight
Til give it a try.”
But next morning Weinberg was more haggard than ever.
“Did you do like you said?” Friedman eagerly asked.
“Sure I did,” said Weinberg wearily. “But something terri-
ble happened. “I counted sheep up to 50,000. Then I sheared
the sheep, and in a little while I made up 50,000 overcoats.
Then all of a sudden a problem came up, and I was tearing
my hair all night: where could I get 50,000 liningsT
Nickeleh-Pickeleh
An old Jewish woman on Essex Street stuck her hand into
the brine of a pickle barrel and fished out a large pickle.
“How much is this pickle?” she asked.
“A nickel,” answered the dealer.
“A nickel is too much,” she said and put the pickle back
into the barrel.
She fished in the barrel again and came up with a little
pickle.
“How much is this little pickelehT’ she asked in a tender
voice.
“That pickelehT answered the shop-keeper, just as tender-
ly. “Only a nickeleh!”
286
Too Late
THE HUMAN COMEDY
A junk peddler on the East Side died. His widow collected
two thousand dollars insurance.
“What miserable luck!” she complained. “For forty years
we lived in poverty and now that God has made us rich, Sol
had to go and die!”
Doctors and Patients
A Calculation
Two Galicians went to live in Vienna. After some time they
met on the street.
“How are you making out in Vienna?” one asked with a sigh.
“One step removed from the grave,” answered the other
bitterly. “How about you?”
“Not so bad! Why should I complain? I’m making a living.
After all, can a Jew ask for more? But I have been sick of
late. Why, do you know that in the last three months I’ve
spent 400 gulden on doctors and medicines!”
“Ach!” exclaimed the other with a homesick sigh. “Back in
Galicia you could have been sick on that money for at least
six years.”
One of the Diseases of Mankind
Dr. Isaac Hourwich, the noted Yiddish scholar, had a
goatee and he looked exactly like Russian-Jewish doctors are
expected to look.
One day, an old Jewish woman came to see him.
“Doctor,” she complained, “I suffer the tortures of hell
from my rheumatism. Would you please — ”
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Hourwich interrupted her, “but you’ve
made a mistake, my dear woman. I’m only a Doctor of Phi-
losophy.”
“Tell me, doctor,” she murmured, “what kind of sickness is
‘philosophy’?”
How to Collect Dues
In the great, gay days of Vienna a certain physician deter-
mined to slough off his Jewish origin in an effort to achieve
the maximum social distinction.
Into the hospital where he served as clinical professor of
TRADITIONAL TYPES
287
dermatology there came one day a little Jew, bearded, wear-
ing a greenish derby hat, a rusty alpaca coat, and carrying a
battered briefcase. “I wish to see Professor Mannheimer,” he
proclaimed.
“Impossible,” said the attendant curtly.
“What do you mean ‘impossible’? I’ll wait,” said the little
man. He sat down on a bench in the reception room, and
waited, all day long. For several days thereafter he came and
waited all day.
On the fifth day, a new attendant decided to help the little
old man. “I’ll give you a tip,” he said. “Professor Mann-
heimer gives a clinical lecture tomorrow, and he uses people
as examples of diseases while he lectures. The only chance you
have of ever seeing him is to join the line of these people.
They pass through that corridor, over there, exactly at three
o’clock. But you’ve got to undress.”
“Nu," said the old man, “if I have to undress, I have to
undress.”
So the next day, at three, the old man, naked except for
his hat, his briefcase still clutched in one hand, brought up
the end of the line. In a moment, with the half-dozen other
“specimens,” he found himself in the amphitheatre. The pro-
fessor entered, and began his lecture.
Pointing with a long professorial staff at the first of the
poor souls, he said, “Here, gentlemen, we have a perfect case
of dermatitis. . . .” And, after a lengthy description of the
symptoms, he thanked the “specimen” and waved his pointer
to the next in line.
“This,” he declared, “is tertiary syphilis . . . note this
symptom . . . note that . . And again, he waved to the
next case.
Finally the great professor stood face to face with the little
old man. He looked the “specimen” over from head to foot,
wiped his own spectacles and then, thoroughly puzzled,
asked, “What’s the matter with yon?”
“What’s the matter with me!” echoed the little man.
“What’s the matter with you, Professor Mannheimer? For
four years, you haven’t paid one cent of your dues to the
Jewish charities!”
Insomnia
Old man Epstein suffered from insomnia. His family had
tried dozens of doctors, and scores of home remedies, to
no avail. Finally a great specialist was recommended, a
288
the human comedy
neurologist reported never to fail. He was forthwith sent for.
(< Arriving at the house, the great doctor said to the son.
You wait here, while your father and I have a few moments
*°8pther.” And the doctor entered the old man’s room.
Its all very simple,” said the doctor when they were
alone. “Just follow me. Do everything I do.”
And the great neurologist raised both arms aloft. So did
Epstein. Then he lowered his arms and breathed deeply. Ep-
stein followed suit. The physician raised his arms sideways,
did three quick knee-bending maneuvers, put his hands on his
hips, and then executed five or six more calisthenic oper-
ations. Epstein followed faithfully.
Suddenly, panting a little from these rigorous exercises, the
doctor fixed little Epstein with a commanding eye, and de-
clared soothingly, “Now . . . you will go ... to sleep!” He
pointed to the bed.
The doctor then strode from the room, and summoned the
younger man. “You may go in to your father, now,” he said.
“You’ll find him fast asleep.”
Happily, the son tiptoed to his father’s bedside, put his lips
near the old man’s ear, and whispered, “Papa, it’s me. You’re
sleeping?”
Very cautiously, old man Epstein opened one eye, and
asked, “That meshuggener . . . he’s still here?”
Waiters and Restaurants
The Customer Is Always Right
A customer in a Jewish restaurant in New York gave his or-
der to the waiter.
“I want some roast duck."
“I’m sorry — we have no roast duck today — only roast
goose.”
“Ask the boss.”
The waiter went to the boss.
“Mr. Weintraub wants roast duck.”
“Tell him we have no roast duck today — only roast goose.”
“I told him so, but he insists on having roast duck.”
Uie boss sighed and said, “All right, if Weintraub insists, he
insists! Ask the cook to cut off a portion of roast duck from
the roast goose.”
traditional types
289
Service
The restaurant was crowded. Waiters scurried everywhere. A
line of standees awaited tables. The noise was overpowering.
As a waiter whizzed past one table, a customer looked up
and asked, “Waiter— what time is it?”
He got a quick answer. “I’m not your waiter.”
A Fishy Conversation
A customer came into a restaurant in Kharkov, ordered a
fish, and when it was brought, bent over the fish as if it were
a friend, apparently talking to it. The manager, observing
this, came over to the table.
“What,” he asked the diner, “are you doing?”
“Oh, just conversing with the fish.”
Conversing with this fish?” The manager was astounded.
‘ And what were you saying to it?”
I asked him where he was from. And he said the Dnie-
per.”
The Dnieper, eh?” The manager determined to see this
through. “Then what did you say?”
“I asked what was new on the Dnieper.”
“And he answered?”
He was terribly sorry, but he’d left there so long ago, he
wouldn’t know.”
Oysters for Atonement
On his way to shut on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement,
holiest of fast days, a Jew spied his partner at a table in the
very window of a seafood restaurant. Storming into the
restaurant, he planted himself at his partner’s elbow.
How can you do such a thing?” he bellowed. “How on
this day of all days can you sit here and eat oysters?”
“What’s the matter?” asked the culprit. “There’s no ‘R’ in
Yom Kip purl"
Matchmakers
Introduction
Matchmaking, practiced among many peoples, has had a vener-
able history among Jews. It had an honorable tradition for count-
less generations, and served a socially useful purpose besides. It
290
THE HUMAN COMEDY
received serious discussion as far back as the Talmudic tractate.
Baba Kama. But then, unlike modern times, it was not regarded as
a business but as a pious practice to be carried on for the love of
God, the perpetuation of the Jewish family, and the increase of
Israel. As a distinctive calling, matchmaking was already in exis-
tence among European Jews during the Twelfth Century. The
shadchan was even then a clearly recognizable personage. In fact,
he was an important Jewish communal functionary, who collected
his modest fees prescribed by rabbinical decisions and by the le-
gal statutes of the realm.
It was the Crusades which spurred the growth of Jewish
matchmaking throughout Europe. Wholesale massacres, persecu-
tions, and the constant flights of Jews hither and thither before
their enemies, made normal social life impossible. In such circum-
stances, the shadchan became a pillar of national survival, an im-
portant instrumentality for the preservation of the Jewish people.
He was among those brave souls who devoted themselves to
the vital task of establishing and preserving contact among the
scattered remnants of Israel. It was a labor of devotion on his
part, involving many risks to life and limb as he traveled through
hostile territory from town to town and province to province.
No mere hucksters or business “agents” were permitted by the
Jewish communities to devote themselves to the “sacred” union of
youth. Only high-minded rabbis and scholars were chosen. It is
interesting to note that such celebrated scholars and rabbis as Levi
of Mayence, Jacob Molir and Leona da Modena were shadcho-
nim; and they were honored for this work by their communities.
In time, with the growth and permanency of Jewish settlements
in ghetto-towns, the traditional integrity of the shadchan began to
waver. By the time of the Jewish “Dark Ages,” which began at
the end of the Sixteenth Century, there were already mussar
(moralistic) writings in which the shadchan was roasted over the
coals for his venality and gross misrepresentations. With pointed
sarcasm he was reminded that, in olden times, only selfish schol-
ars and great rabbis were privileged to practice his profession.
One of the principal reasons for the decline in the moral
stature of the matchmakers was the fact that usually men with
unstable backgrounds and occupations were tempted into its un-
certain undertakings. The peculiar persuasive and social talents
required drew toward it, and even stimulated, the development of
a unique type. It would be an understatement to say that the shad-
chan became the Jewish counterpart of Figaro. Even more than
he, the shadchan was a perpetual chatterbox, lively and impudent
by turn, good-natured with raillery and guileless with malice.
The shadchan is a classic type in the great portrait gallery of
Jewish folklore and in the works of fiction writers as well. He is
drawn vividly and in broad satiric lines, dressed up in all the fine
TRADITIONAL TYPES
291
plumage of his humbug, talkativeness, and genius for euphemisti-
cally glossing over the physical and character defects of his
clients. Yet, with it all, he is touched with a certain comic pathos
which belongs to the schlimazl, a trait Figaro did not possess.
N.A.
The Unreasonable Young Man
An old marriage broker once came to a young man propos-
ing a match with an ugly girl. The young man, who knew the
girl, looked at the broker as if he had gone out of his mind.
“What’s the idea of making sport of me?” he asked him in-
dignantly.
“You’re wrong!” the broker assured him. “You know I
don’t like to joke. I mean it very seriously. What are your ob-
jections to the girl anyway?”
“Objections? Why she’s blind!”
“You call that a fault? In my opinion it’s a virtue. You’ll
be free to do whatever you please.”
“But she’s also a mute!”
“For a woman that’s a virtue. You’ll never hear a sour
word from her.”
“But she’s also deaf!”
“Can you think of anything better? You’ll be able to abuse
her to your heart’s content and she won’t hear you.”
“But she’s also lame!”
“Call that a fault? You’ll be able to run after other women
and she won’t be able to follow you.”
“But she’s also hunchbacked!”
“Really, I cannot understand you!” cried the marriage bro-
ker in exasperation. “Can’t you tolerate even one fault in the
girl you plan to marry?”
Happiness, Ready-to-Wear
The young man was indignant.
“What sort of a match are you proposing to me, anyway?”
he rebuked the shadchan. “Why, this woman is the mother of
three children!”
“So what if she is?” countered the shadchan. “Believe me,
it’s a lot better so. Suppose you were to marry a girl and you
both decided to have children. What inconvenience you’d
have to go through to have three children! Three pregnancies
and all the fuss that goes with them. What a waste of time,
292
THE HUMAN COMEDY
energy and expense, of doctors, nurses, hospitals and medi-
cines! After each birth your wife would have to convalesce,
no? You even may have to send her to the country to recu-
perate. Since you work in town you’ll both be cruelly sep-
arated. What sort of a dog’s life will you lead then? You’ll
have to eat in rotten restaurants and spoil your digestion.
And you 11 have to look after your kids while your wife is
away. This way, if you’ll marry the widow with the three
children I’m proposing, it’ll be a ready-made job. She’s all
through with the bother. Three nice children, all custom-
made, and their mother is in the pink of condition, thank youl
My friend, if you don’t grab this proposition you’re a fool!”
The Art of Exaggeration
Once there was a marriage broker who felt he was getting
old and unable to get around any more as much as he used
to. He therefore hired a young assistant who knew nothing
about the business. He had to start from scratch with him.
‘ Know, young man,” said the marriage broker, “that the
most important thing in matchmaking is exaggeration You
must lay it on thick!”
I fully understand,” answered the assistant brightly.
One day the master took his assistant along on a match-
making visit to a rich man who had an only son.
Remember what I told you!” the marriage broker warned
his assistant. “Above all things, be enthusiastic and don’t hesi-
tate to lay it on.”
When they came to the rich man the broker began:
“I’ve just the right girl for your son! She comes of a good
family.” 6
Good family!” exclaimed his assistant rapturously. “Why
they’re descendants of the Vilna Gaon!” ’
^ And they are rich too,” the broker went on.
“W^lat do y°u mean ‘rich’?” interrupted his assistant.
They’re millionaires!”
“As for the girl, she’s as pretty as a doll!” gushed the bro-
ker.
“A doll!” snorted his assistant with scorn. “Why, she’s a
raving beauty!”
At this the broker threw a dubious look at his assistant.
To tell the truth,” he faltered, “she has just a trifling little
handicap — she has a tiny wart on her back.”
TRADITIONAL TYPES 293
“What do you mean, a tiny wart!” enthused his assistant.
“Why, she has a regular hump!”
The Aristocrat
Shortly after the Bolshevik Revolution, a shadchan called
on a lady client in Minsk.
“How much dowry have you?” he asked delicately.
“Two thousand rubles.”
The shadchan then took out his little black book and said,
“Well now, let me seel H-mm. For two thousand rubles I can
give you a doctor.”
“No, I don’t want a doctor.”
“Maybe you’d like a rabbi?”
“No, no rabbi.”
“How about a cantor?”
“No, no cantor.”
‘Then what is it you want?”
“I want a worker.’”
“A worker? You’re a smart one! For two thousand rubles
you think you can get a worker?”
The Over-Enthusiastic Shadchan 20
A shadchan once came to a young man and said, “Young
man, I have a girl for you — pure gold!”
“Thank you very much,” answered the young man politely,
“but I don’t want to get married.”
“Don’t want to get married!” cried the shadchan incredu-
lously. “Who ever heard of such a thing? How can a Jew live
without a wife?”
“What do I need a wife for?” retorted the young man irri-
tably.
“Ai-ai! That’s bad!” sighed the shadchan, sadly shaking his
head. “You talk like a child. You simply have no idea how
good it is to have a wife! Without one, my dear friend, you
can’t know the meaning of life. Bachelors are always
depressed; they feel as lonely as a stone in the wilderness. But
with a wife — and believe me I know what I’m talking about
for I have a wife of my own (may God keep her in health
and vigor!) — with a wife, life is a joy without end.
“Imagine for a moment — you get up in the morning and
your wife places before you a steaming cup of coffee. Then,
while you are away for morning prayer or on business in the
294
THE HUMAN COMEDY
market-place, she makes ready a delicious breakfast — the
same as my wife does (may God preserve her to one hundred
and twenty years!). Later, when you return, you eat together,
alone and at the same table. Everything is so cosy, so
pleasant! Just think of it — you eat every meal the same way,
three times a day, seven days a week, and every day of your
life!
“Then on Friday, before the Holy Sabbath arrives, she
dusts and cleans and scours until everything is spick and
span. She polishes the large silver candlesticks that your
mother-in-law gave you for a wedding gift, until you can al-
most see your face in them. She then places them on the
table, and, saying a prayer, she lights the candles, as a pious
Jewish daughter should. When you return from evening
prayer in the synagogue you chant the benediction over excel-
lent wine in a silver goblet. And think of it! There, opposite
you, sits your loving wife looking up at you smiling with her
dear eyes, just as my wife (God bless her!) does on such oc-
casions.
“After supper, you both sit down to chat comfortably. You
first talk of this and of that. Then your wife (what a clever
little head she has on her shoulders!) begins to tell you one
witty story after another. You listen as she prattles so sweetly,
so charmingly, just as my wife does. And so she goes on talk-
ing while you listen — and she talks ... and she talks . . .
and talks . . . and talks . . . Oy, can she talk! She’s driving
me crazy with her talk!”
The Truth Will Out
A marriage broker had taken a young man on a visit to a
prospect. As they left the house the broker said triumphantly,
‘ Didn’t I tell you what a wonderful family they were, and
how rich? Did you notice the quality of the silverware on the
table? Pure sterling!’’
"Y-e-s," grudgingly conceded the young man. “But don’t
you think it’s possible that in order to make a good im-
pression on me they borrowed the silverware?”
“Ach, what nonsense!” cried the broker with exasperation.
“Who’d lend any silverware to those thieves?”
TRADITIONAL TYPES
295
What a Life !
“What was the idea of fooling me that way?” a prospective
bridegroom bitterly reproached his shadchan.-
“What do you mean, I fooled you?” indignantly replied the
broker. “What did I say that wasn’t so? Isn’t the girl a
beauty? Doesn’t she embroider nicely? Doesn’t she sing like a
canary?”
“Ye-es,” grudgingly conceded the groom. “The girl is all
right, as far as that goes. But she comes from a terrible
family! That’s where you lied to me: you told me her father
was dead, but the girl herself tells me he’s been in jail for ten
years.”
“Nu — I ask you? Do you call that living?” asked the shad-
chan.
Speak Up
“You faker, you swindler!” hissed the prospective bride-
groom, taking the shadchan aside. “Why did you ever get me
into this? The girl’s old, she’s homely, she lisps, she squints — ”
“You don’t have to whisper,” interrupted the shadchan,
“she’s deaf, too!”
Only Sometimes
The boy and girl went for a stroll. The boy said to his shad-
chan when next they met, “But she limps!”
“Only when she walks,” agreed the shadchan.
In Haste 21
To my honored, beloved and respected friend, Sholom
Aleichem:
I want to begin by informing you that I am still — Bless the
Lord — among the living, and that I hope to hear the same
from you, Amen. Next I want to tell you that, with God’s
help, I am now a king; that is, I have come home to
Kasrilevka to spend the Passover with my wife and children,
my father-in-law and mother-in-law, and with all my loved
ones. And at Passover, as we all know, a Jew surrounded by
his family is always a king. If only briefly, I hasten to inform
you of all this, my dear, true friend. For a detailed account
there is no time. It is Passover Eve, and on this day we must
all do everything in great haste, standing on one foot. As it is
296
THE HUMAN COMEDY
written, “For in haste didst thou come forth out of the Land
of Egypt.”
But what to write of first, I hardly know myself. It seems
to me that before anything else I ought to thank you and
praise you for the good advice you gave me, to try my hand
at matchmaking. Believe me, I shall never, never forget what
you have done for me. You led me forth from the Land of
Bondage, from the Gehenna of Yehupetz; you freed me from
the desolate occupation of a commission salesman, and lifted
me to a noble, respected profession. And for this I am obli-
gated to praise and exalt you, to bless and adorn your name,
as you well deserve.
It is true that thus far I have not succeeded in negotiating
a single match, but I have made a beginning. Things are stir-
ring, and once things begin to stir there is always the possibil-
ity and the hope that with God’s help something may come
of it. Especially in view of the fact that I do not work alone.
I operate in partnership with other matchmakers, the best
matchmakers in the world. As a result of these connections I
now have a reputation of my own. Whenever I come and in-
troduce myself, Menachem-Mendel from Yehupetz, I am in-
vited to sit down, I am given tea with preserves, I am treated
like an honored guest. They introduce me to the daughter of
the house, and the daughter shows me what she can do. She
turns to her governess and begins to speak French with her.
Words come pouring like peas out of a sack, and the mother
sits gazing at her daughter proudly, as though to say, “What
do you think of her? She speaks well, doesn’t she?”
And listening to these girls, I have picked up some French
myself and I can understand quite a bit of the language. For
instance, if someone says to me, “Parlez-vous Frangais?”
(“How are you feeling these days?”) I say, “Merci, bonjour.”
(“Not bad, praise the Lord.”)
Then, after she has given a demonstration of her French,
they have her sit down at the pianola to play something —
overtures and adagios and finales — so beautiful that it pene-
trates to the very depth of one’s soul! In the meantime the
parents ask me to stay for supper and I let them talk me into
it. Why not? ... At the table they serve me the best portions
of meat and feed me tzimmes even on weekdays. Afterwards,
I strike up a conversation with the daughter. “What,” I ask,
“is your heart’s desire — a lawyer, an engineer, a doctor?”
“Naturally,” she says, “a doctor.” And once more she starts
TRADITIONAL TYPES
297
jabbering in French with the governess, and at this point the
mother has an opportunity to display her daughter’s handi-
work. “Her embroidery and her knitting are a feast to the
eye,” she says, “and her kindness, her goodness, her consider-
ation for others — there is no one like her! And quiet — like a
dove. And bright — as the day . . .”
And the father, in his turn, traces his pedigree for me. He
tells me what a fine family he comes from, and his wife as
well. He tells me who his grandfather was, and his great-
grandfather, and all his wife’s connections. Every one of
them of the finest. Rich people, millionaires, famous and
celebrated all over the world. “There is not a single common
person in our whole family,” he assures me. “And not one
pauper,” his wife adds. “Not a single workingman,” he says.
“No tailors and no cobblers,” she adds. “You’ll find no fakes
or frauds among us,” he tells me. “Or apostates either, I can
assure you,” she puts in.
In the doorway, when I’m ready to leave and they wish me
a good journey, I sigh and let them know how expensive it is
to travel these days. Every step costs money. And if he is not
obtuse he knows what I mean, and gives me at least enough
for expenses . . .
I tell you, my dear friend, that matchmaking is not at all
such a bad profession — especially if God ever intercedes and
you actually conclude a match! So far, as I have told you, I
have not succeeded in marrying anyone off. I have had no
luck. At the start everything looks auspicious. It could hardly
be better. It was a match predestined since the Six Days of
Creation. But at the last moment everything goes wrong. In
this case the youth does not care for the maiden; in the other,
the girl thinks the groom is too old. This one has too fine a
pedigree; that one does not have enough money. This one
wants the moon on a platter; that one doesn’t know what he
wants. There is plenty of trouble connected with it, and heart-
aches, and indigestion, I can assure you.
Right now I am on the verge of arranging a couple of
matches — naturally with a few partners — which, if the Lord
has mercy and they go through, will be something for the
whole world to talk about. Both parties come from the
wealthiest and finest and oldest families — there is none like
them. And the girls are both the greatest beauties. You can’t
find their equal anywhere. Both are well-educated, gifted,
kind, bright, quiet, modest — all the virtues you can think of.
298
THE HUMAN COMEDY
And what do I have to offer them? Real merchandise! One
a doctor from Odessa. But he wants no less than thirty thou-
sand rubles dowry, and he has a right to it, because according
to the practice that he says he has, he should be worth much
more. I have another from Byelotzerkiev — a rare find! A bar-
gain at twenty thousand! And another in Yehupetz — only he
doesn’t want to get married. And a whole flock of young
little doctors who are only too anxious to get married.
Besides these I have a pack of lawyers and attorneys and
justices at fifteen thousand and ten thousand, and smaller
lawyers — young ones just hatched — that you can have for six
thousand or five thousand, or even less. On top of that I have
a couple of engineers who are already earning a living, and a
few engineers still looking for work. And that is not all. I
have an assortment of miscellaneous clients, elderly men, rel-
ics of past campaigns from Tetrevitz, from Makarevka, from
Yampola and from Strishtch, without diplomas, but fine
enough specimens, distinguished, skilled, intelligent. In short,
there are plenty to pick from. The only trouble is that if the
gentleman wants the lady, the lady does not want the gentle-
man. If the girl is willing, the man is not. Perhaps then you
will ask why the man who does not want girl number one
will not take number two, and vice versa? I thought of that
myself, but it doesn’t seem to work. Do you know why? Be-
cause strangers are always mixing in. They may be good
people. They mean no harm. But they spoil everything. And
meanwhile letters are flying back and forth. I send telegrams
and receive telegrams every day. The whole world rocks and
rolls!
And in the midst of it all, Passover gets in the way, like a
bone in the throat, blocking everything. I think it over. My
fortune won’t run away from me. The merchandise I deal in
is not so perishable. Why shouldn’t I take a few days off and
go to see my family in Kasrilevka? It’s been so long since I’ve
been there. It is not fair to my wife and children to be away
from them so long. It does not look good to others, and it is
even embarrassing to myself. So, to make it short, I have
come home for Passover, and that is where I am writing you
this letter from.
4
Humorous Anecdotes and Jests
Ziisskind the Tailor
The Bishop of Salzburg issued a decree that on a certain day
the Jews of the principality were to present their champion to
hold a dispute with a certain Christian scholar who was a
great Bible authority and theologian. The dispute was to take
place in the Cathedral Square before the entire populace.
Whichever of the two opponents was bested in argument was
to lose his life.
A great terror fell upon the Jews when they heard of this.
They rent their garments and fasted. The Rabbinical Council
issued a call that whoever wished to engage in the disputation
with the Christian scholar should report to the Chief Rabbi.
But only Ziisskind the Tailor showed up.
The communal leaders were filled with consternation. Was
this the man to represent them against the most learned priest
in the land? But what was there to be done? No one else had
come forward for everyone knew it spelled certain death, and
here was the town tailor, ready to sacrifice his life for the
good of all and for the sanctification of His Name!
The appointed day for the disputation arrived. The popu-
lace assembled in the Cathedral Square according to the
Bishop’s decree. The Bishop then asked the Jewish champion
to step forward and begin the disputation.
Said Ziisskind the Tailor to the Christian scholar: “If you
are such an authority on Jewish lore, then tell me: what is
the meaning of the Hebrew words Lo Idatfl ”22
“I don’t know,” answered the scholar, readily.
“Aha!” cried the tailor exultantly. “Let me put the question
to you again: What does Lo Idati mean?”
“I don’t know!” answered the scholar, this time with some
exasperation.
299
300
THE HUMAN COMEDY
When the Bishop heard the scholar’s apparent admission of
ignorance for the second time he ordered that the disputation
be halted. They then quickly hanged the scholar and die Jews
returned home with songs of thanksgiving on their lips. They
conducted the tailor in triumph to the rabbi.
“Tell me,” asked the rabbi, “how did you hit upon such a
clever plan to best the scholar?”
“I’ll tell you, Rabbi,” replied the tailor. “I looked into the
Yiddish translation of the Torah because I do not know any
Hebrew, and it said about Lo Idati: ‘I don’t know.’ So I fig-
ured— if the holy Yiddish Bible translation admits ‘I don’t
know’ how can this enemy of Israel know! And, as you see, I
judged right.”
The Power of a Lie
In the town of Tamopol lived a man by the name of Reb
Feivel. One day, as he sat in his house deeply absorbed in his
Talmud, he heard a loud noise outside. When he went to the
window he saw a lot of little pranksters. “Up to some new
piece of mischief, no doubt,” he thought.
“Children, run quickly to the synagogue,” he cried, leaning
out and improvising the first story that occurred to him.
“You’ll see there a sea monster, and what a monster! It’s a
creature with five feet, three eyes, and a beard like that of a
goat, only it’s green!”
And sure enough the children scampered off and Reb
Feivel returned to his studies. He smiled into his beard as he
thought of the trick he had played on those little rascals.
It wasn’t long before his studies were interrupted again,
this time by running footsteps. When he went to the window
he saw several Jews running.
“Where are you running?” he called out.
“To the synagogue!” answered the Jews. “Haven’t you
heard? There’s a sea monster there — a creature with five legs,
three eyes, and a beard like that of a goat, only it’s green!”
Reb Feivel laughed with glee, thinking of the trick he had
played, and sat down again to his Talmud.
But no sooner had he begun to concentrate when suddenly
he heard a dinning tumult outside. And what did he see? A
great crowd of men, women and children, all running toward
the synagogue.
humorous anecdotes and jests 301
“What’s up?” he cried, sticking his head out of the win-
dow.
“What a question! Why, don’t you know?” they answered.
“Right in front of the synagogue there’s a sea monster. It’s a
creature with five legs, three eyes, and a beard like that of a
goat, only it’s green!”
And as the crowd hurried by Reb Feivel suddenly noticed
that the rabbi himself was among them.
“Lord of the world!” he exclaimed. “If the rabbi himself is
running with them surely there must be something happening.
Where there’s smoke there’s fire!”
Without further thought Reb Feivel grabbed his hat, left
his house, and also began running.
“Who can tell?” he muttered to himself as he ran, all out
of breath, toward the synagogue.
The Merchant from Brisk
A merchant from Brisk ordered a consignment of dry-goods
from Lodz. A week later he received the following letter:
“We regret we cannot fill this order until full payment has
been made on the last one.”
The merchant sent his reply: “Please cancel the new order.
I cannot wait that long.”
The Biggest Favor
One day, while Hitler was horseback riding in a Berlin park,
his mount became frightened and ran wild.
“Help! Help!” cried the Fuehrer.
A passerby leaped forward, caught the reins of the run-
away horse, and brought it to a standstill.
“My good man,” said Hitler gratefully. “Do you know who
I am? I am your Fuehrer! And who are you?”
“I am Israel Kohn, a Jew,” answered his rescuer, all
a-tremble.
Hitler looked startled for a moment. Then he said, “You
may be a Jew but you’re a brave man! You’ve saved my life
and I want to reward you! Just tell me what favor you’d like
me to do for you.”
“Favor!” muttered Israel Kohn, despondently. “The biggest
favor you can do for me is not to breathe a word about this
to a soul!”
the human comedy
302
Secret Strategy
During the first World War a Jewish soldier greatly distin-
guished himself by the large number of prisoners he took.
Late at night, when all firing had ceased and everything was
still, he would cautiously crawl over the top into No Man’s
Land. Before long he would return followed by a number of
prisoners. He did this with baffling regularity all night long
until dawn broke. No one could understand how he managed
it, and he wouldn’t divulge his secret even to his superior of-
ficers.
When the General of his division heard of it he ordered
him up for questioning.
“My boy,” he said sternly, “out with your secret! If you
can take prisoners that easily it’s your duty to tell us how so
we can teach others.”
“General,” the young soldier confessed, embarrassed, “my
method is not according to the Army Manual. I do simply
this. Late at night I crawl to the nearest enemy trench. Then
I call out in Yiddish: ‘Jews, wherever you are! We need a
minyan of ten men for reciting the Kaddish prayer over a
dead comrade.’ Immediately, Jews come piling over the top
from the German trenches and I lead them back to camp.”
Mother-in-Law Relativity
“Hello, Mrs. Levine! How are you?”
“Fine and dandy!”
“And how’s your daughter Shirley?”
God bless her, she’s fine! What a wonderful husband she
has! He doesn’t let her put her hand in cold water all day
long! She lies in bed until twelve and then her maid serves
her breakfast in bed. At three she goes shopping in Saks Fifth
Avenue and at five she has cocktails at the Ritz. And dresses
just like a movie star! What do you say to such mazelT'
And how’s your son? I hear he’s married.”
. “Yes> he’s married! Poor boy— he has no mazel. He’s mar-
ried to one of those fancy-shmancy girls. What do you think
she does all day long? She doesn’t do a thing! The good-for-
nothing! She sleeps until noon. Then she has to have her
breakfast brought to her in bed. And do you think she takes
care of her home? No! She has to shop all afternoon and
waste her husband’s hard-earned money on dresses like a
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS
303
movie star. How do you think she winds up the day? Guz-
zling cocktails! Call that a wife?”
All Agents Are Alike
Once there was an old couple. They did poorly, and even
suffered hunger. At last, driven by desperation, the old man
said to his wife, “Malke, let’s write God a letter.”
So they sat down and wrote God a letter, imploring Him
for help. They signed it, sealed it carefully, and wrote the
name of God on the envelope.
“How do you suppose we can mail this letter?” the old
woman asked in perplexity.
“God is everywhere,” her pious husband replied. “Our let-
ter is bound to reach Him any way we send it.”
So he went outside and threw it into the wind which
whirled it away down the street.
It happened that at that very moment a charitable rich
man was out walking and the wind blew the letter towards
him. He picked it up out of curiosity, read it, and was
touched by the trusting innocence of the old couple as much
as by their sad plight. He resolved to help them.
A little later he knocked on their door.
“Does Reb Nute live here?” he asked.
“I am Reb Nute,” replied the old man.
The rich man beamed at him.
“In that case. I’ve some business to transact with you,” he
said. “I want you to know that God received your letter a
few minutes ago. As I am His personal agent in White Russia
He gave me a hundred rubles for you.”
“What do you say to that, Malke?” exclaimed the old man
with joy. “You see, God did get our letter!”
The old couple took the money and showered their
blessings on God’s agent in White Russia.
When they were alone again the old man’s face became
clouded.
“What’s wrong now?” his wife asked him.
“I’ve a suspicion, Malke,” answered the old man thought-
fully, “that that agent wasn’t altogether honest; he was a little
too smooth. Well, you know how agents are! Likely as not
God probably gave him two hundred rubles for us but that
swindler must have taken off fifty percent as his commis-
sion!”
304
THE HUMAN COMEDY
All About the Elephant
A professor of zoology at Harvard some years ago asked his
graduate students, among whom were several foreigners, to
write papers on the elephant.
A German student wrote: “An Introduction to the Bibliog-
raphy for the Study of the Elephant.”
A French student wrote: “The Love-Life of the Elephant.”
An English student wrote: “Elephant Hunting.”
An American student wrote: “Breeding Bigger and Better
Elephants.”
..'rJb'L1',6 was also a Jewish student in the class. He wrote:
I he Elephant and the Jewish Problem.”
Babe Ruth and the Jewish Question
A little Jewish boy on the East Side of New York came
home from school and with great excitement told his patri-
archal grandfather: “Grandpa! Imagine! Babe Ruth hit three
homers today!”
“Tell me,” asked the old man, “what this Babe Ruth did—
is it good for the Jews?”
The Captain
H a!ways kee.n a simple and unassuming man until he
suddenly became rich. Looking around he noticed that the
very rich owned yachts. Clearly, to own a yacht was a badge
of wealth. So why shouldn’t he own a yacht too? He there-
fore bought himself one and appropriately rigged himself out
in a fancy “captain’s” uniform.
For the first trip he invited his old father and mother from
the Bronx. They seemed impressed but slightly dubious of his
new glory.
“What do you say to me now, mama?” cried her son
now!”Iy’ P°inting t0 his new uniform- “I’m a regular captain
His old mother smiled indulgently and murmured “That’s
fine, that’s fine!”
“But mama,” protested her son, looking a little hurt, “you
don’t seem very enthusiastic about it.”
“Listen, Benny dear,” replied his mother, “by papa you’re
a captain, by me you’re a captain, by you you’re a captain —
but, believe me, by a captain you’re no captain!”
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS
305
Ready for Everything
A Talmud student was sleeping in a strange house. At night
he was awakened by a noise, so he cried out: “Scat! Scat!
Gewaltl Gewaltl Shema Yisroel! Shema Yisroell"
“What’s the meaning of your gibberish?” his host called
out to him in surprise.
“Very simple,” explained the Talmud student. “I wish to
cover all eventualities. If it was a cat — ‘scat! scat!’ would
drive it away. If it was a thief — ‘gewalt! gewaltl’ would
frighten him off. It if was a ghost — then ‘Shema Yisroell’
would protect me.”
Also a Minyan-Man
“What is your business?” asked the judge of the witness, a
little bearded old Jew.
“I’m a minyan-man.”
“What’s that?” asked the judge.
“When there are nine persons in the synagogue and I join
them they are ten,” answered the old man.
“What kind of talk is that?” snapped the judge, impa-
tiently. “When there are nine persons, and I join them, there
are also ten.”
A look of delight appeared on the old Jew’s face. Bending
over towards the judge he asked in a confidential whisper,
“Also a Jew?”
When Your Life Is in Danger
A Jewish merchant once came on matters of business to the
estate of a Polish landowner in the country. He found the
landowner at breakfast. On the table were hot cutlets and a
bottle of wine. The host politely asked the merchant to take a
seat at the table and urged him to eat a pork chop. The Jew
thanked him but declined.
“Don’t you like pork chops?”
“On the contrary, I would like them very much but they’re
forbidden to us Jews.”
The landowner laughed. “I know, I know,” said he, “you
call them tref.”
After that he poured him a glass of wine. Again the Jew
declined with thanks. That, too, was forbidden.
Out of patience, the landowner exclaimed, “Your God cer-
306
THE HUMAN COMEDY
tainly is a hard-hearted one! He puts upon your shoulders a
burden too heavy to carry. Tell me what, for instance, would
you do if you got lost in a forest, had nothing to eat for
several days, and began to feel that you were about to col-
lapse from hunger? Suppose somebody came along and
handed you food that was tref — would you eat it?”
“That’s entirely another matter,” answered the Jew. “Our
Law makes provision for emergencies where human life and
health are at stake.”
Suddenly, the landowner jumped to his feet. He glared
murderously at the Jew and, whipping out a revolver, pointed
it at him, crying, “Drink this wine, or I shoot!”
Before you could say Bim the Jew had downed the wine in
one gulp. Still pointing the revolver at him, the landowner
poured him a second glass. Before you could say Bam the
Jew had gulped it down.
Putting down the revolver, the landowner said smiling to
the Jew, “Don’t be angry with me, I beg you, I was only jok-
ing. Assure me you’re not angry.”
“Why shouldn’t I be angry— I have every right to be an-
gry, ’ retorted the Jew. “You should have started your joke a
little earlier, when you first got around to the pork chops!”
They Misled the Gendarme
When the Czar had issued the infamous May Laws against
the Jews in 1881, three Jews in a little Ukrainian town gave
vent to their indignation.
“He is an idot, a nitwit!” jeered one.
“He guzzles vodka like a swine!” sneered another.
“Not only that, but he’s a thief! He collects taxes and puts
them in his own pocket!” raged the third.
No sooner had he said this than a gendarme appeared as
though he had sprung out of the ground.
“Seditious Jews!” he roared angrily. “Just wait — you’ll pay
dearly for insulting our Holy Czar! Come with me — you’re
under arrest!”
So the three Jews, trembling with fear, went with the gen-
darme to the police station.
“How dare you insult our beloved Czar?” shrieked the
commissioner of police.
“Who was talking about the Czar?” replied the Jews inno-
cently. “We were talking about Kaiser Wilhelm, that enemy
of Israel!”
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS
307
The police commissioner softened.
“Oh, in that case — be more careful the way you talk next
time. How was the gendarme to know? When you said ‘idiot
. . . drunkard . . . thief’ ... he naturally thought you
meant the Czar.”
Very Understandable
A preacher once came to a village and held forth in the
synagogue on the Sabbath afternoon. A great crowd turned
out to hear him. In the village lived a man who was a bit of
a scholar. Seeing that everybody was going to hear the
preacher, he went too.
The following morning the preacher met this man on the
street.
“How did you like my sermon?” he asked him.
“All I can tell you is that I could not fall asleep after I
heard you preach.”
“Did my preaching have such an effect on you?”
“Not at all, only when I sleep during the day I can’t close
an eye at night!”
Commentary
Two old men sat silently over their glasses of tea for what
might have been, or at any rate seemed, hours. At last, one
spoke: “Oy, veh!”
The other said: “You’re telling me!”
Comfort
“What’s news, Mr. Goldstein? What does your son write
from Detroit?”
“Ail Thank you for asking. Believe me — it’s bitter. His
wife died recently. She was nebich a young woman, a mother
of three children, the prettiest little doves you’ve ever seen!
But now, blessed be His name, he has only two left — the
third fell sick and died. And his business is going to the devil!
He had a house, but it burned down. Burglars looted his little
shop so that nothing remains of any value. In one word — he
has been left nebich without a shirt on his back. It’s a bitter
misfortune! But let me tell you — does he write a letter in He-
brew! Ai! It’s a pleasure to read — I’m telling you!”
THE HUMAN COMEDY
308
Cold Hospitality
A rich man was annoyed because every time he sat down to
dinner the door opened and in came a certain schnorrer.
What was the rich man to do? He had to invite him to din-
ner.
One night at the usual dinner hour when his steady cus-
tomer called again, the rich man suddenly asked him, “Do
you like cold noodles?”
“Oh, I love cold noodles!” replied the schnorrer , enthusias-
tically.
“Fine!” snapped the host. “Come back tomorrow night for
them. They’re hot just now.”
Conversation Piece
“How are you?”
“Mm-mm.”
“I mean, how is business?”
“Tsk-tsk!”
“And how’s your wife?”
“Eh-eh!”
“And your children?”
“Nn-nn!”
“Well, good-bye! It certainly was good to see you. Believe
me — there’s nothing like a good heart-to-heart talk with a
friend to get your troubles off your chest!”
Stop Me If . . .
An old Jew, seated at the end of a sparsely filled subway car,
was making strange and elaborate gestures and grimaces, in-
terspersed with laughter and deprecatory hand wavings.
A fellow passenger, overcome with curiosity, approached
the old man, asking, “Is something wrong? Is there anything I
can do?”
“No, no!” said the gesturer, “thank God, I’m all right. But
when I travel I have the habit of passing the time telling my-
self stories.”
“Well,” said the other, “why do you make such faces and
gestures, as if you were in pain?”
Oh, that! ’ said the old man. “Every time I start a new
story I have to tell myself that I’ve heard it before.”
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS
309
A Livelihood
Levine bought a diamond and emerald ring for his wife. At
lunch he showed it to his friend, Siegel.
“What did you pay for it?” asked Siegel.
“Five hundred dollars.”
“I like it,” said Siegel. “I’ll give you seven hundred, that’s
$200 profit for you.”
So it was done. But the next day Levine regretted it. His
wife would have liked it. He went to Siegel and offered to
buy it back for $800.
Siegel sold. After all, it was a quick $100 profit. But he
had become attached to the ring and phoned Levine, later,
saying, “Look, if you’ll sell it back to me I’ll give you a thou-
sand for it.” So it was again Siegel’s. And Levine joyously
pocketed the extra $200.
Before Siegel could present it to his own wife, his partner,
Berman, saw it and offered $1500. The ring changed hands.
The next day, Levine again sought the ring, offering Siegel
$1200.
“I’ve sold it to Berman for $1500,” Siegel explained.
“You idiot,” cried Levine. “How could you do such a
thing! From that ring we were both making such a nice liv-
ing!”
A Full Accounting
When Mr. Berg came home his wife accosted him. “Sam,
give me five dollars.”
“What happened to the five dollars I gave you this morn-
ing?”
“Do you want me to give you an accounting?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Berg.
. . “All right,” said his wife. “A dollar here and a dollar there
is two dollars.”
“Yes.”
“And before you turn around is another two dollars.”
“Yes.”
“And the last dollar — I won’t tell you!”
Mother Love
A mother tenderly guided her four-year-old Sarale down
Second Avenue. As they crossed 14th Street, the child
sneezed.
310
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“God bless you, my sweet!” breathed Mama, patting the
child’s head.
As they crossed 1 3th Street, the child sneezed again.
“Ah, may your health be a thing of wonder, my jewel,”
Mama sweetly sighed.
At 12th Street, the child sneezed again and once more
Mama patted her head and uttered a fervent “Gesundheit!”
At 11th Street, little Sarale sneezed again, and received a
smart slap in the face. “Go to the devil!” cried Mama.
“You’re catching another cold!”
Initiative
A Jew was engaged once to drive a bus on a lower East Side
line in New York. As he handed in his receipts at the end of
the first day he looked plainly discouraged. They amounted to
less than ten dollars.
The following day he started out on his route early in the
morning but somehow he eluded the inspectors. Very much
puzzled they tried to find out what had become of him and
his bus.
Finally, toward nightfall, the new bus driver appeared at
the terminal grinning happily. With a flourish he handed the
cashier one hundred and nine dollars.
“What’s this? What’s this?” the cashier exclaimed in amaze-
ment. “We never had so much money made on that run be-
fore. How did you do it?”
“Very simple,” answered the driver. “I said to myself:
‘What’s the use of wasting my time on this God-forsaken
route where there are hardly any passengers?’ I’m not such a
fool! I turned my bus into 14th Street and, believe me, it’s a
gold mine over there!”
No Admittance
One of the synagogue’s chief means of obtaining revenue is
the sale of seats for the high Holy Days. This is always done
in advance since the carrying and handling of money on
these days is forbidden to orthodox Jews. For the same rea-
son, it is customary to employ non-Jews as keepers of the
gate.
One Yom Kippur, a ticket-taker at a Brooklyn house nf
worship was confronted by a Jew with no ticket who pleaded
to be allowed to enter.
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS
311
“No ticket, no admission,” the guard said, firmly.
“But I’ve got to see my partner, Liebowitz, in the fourth
row,” insisted the man. “It’s urgent.”
“For the last time,” said the guard, Tm telling you, no
ticket, no admission to this synagogue!”
“But it’s a business matter,” persisted the man. “I’ll just be
a minute. I swear to you . . . just a minute.”
“Well, if it’s a business matter,” said the guard, finally
weakening, “I’ll let you in for a minute. . . . But remem-
ber— no praying!”
Whose Drawers?
During his first visit to America, Israel Zangwill, the noted
Anglo-Jewish writer, was the guest of Jacob Schiff, the
banker-philanthropist. To his dismay, Zangwill found the
weather in New York too balmy for his heavy English
woolies. Schiff, a conservative banker of the old school,
promptly lent him a pair of his own jean underdrawers, the
kind with tapes around the ankles.
Blithely Zangwill strolled down Fifth Avenue, basking in
the fine afternoon sunshine, completely unaware that the
tapes on his underwear had gotten loose and were trailing on
the ground.
As he passed a corner a policeman called out to him,
“Hey, Mister, the strings of your drawers are hanging out!”
For a moment Zangwill was taken aback.
“You’re mistaken,” he finally replied, recovering from his
embarrassment, “they’re not my drawers, they’re Mr. Jacob
SchifFs drawers.”
Shortcut
Feld and Bein met on the street. "Sholom aleichem,” said
Feld, politely. “Go to hell,” said Bein.
“Look,” Feld said indignantly, “I speak nicely to you and
you tell me to go to hell. What’s the idea?”
“I’ll tell you,” said Bein. “If I answered you politely you
would ask where am I going, and I would tell you I’m going
to the 8th Street baths.
“You would tell me I’m crazy, the Avenue A baths are
better, and I would say you’re crazy, the 8th Street baths are
better, and you would call me a damn fool and I would tell
you to go to hell.
312 THE HUMAN COMEDY
“This way it’s simpler. I tell you right away go to hell, and
it’s finished.”
A Matter of Degree
As they were driving by Calvary Cemetery, Goldman sud-
denly turned to Meyerson, saying, “If you don’t mind, I
want to stop here so I can visit a grave.”
“But it’s a goyish cemetery!” Meyerson said, surprised.
“Just the same,” said Goldman, “I want to go in.”
So they went in and walked until they arrived at a family
plot marked “Reilly.” At its entrance was a block of granite
bearing the names:
James Joseph Reilly
Francis Xavier Reilly
John James Reilly
Mary Martha Reilly
William John Reilly
Rebeccah Reilly
Pointing to the last name, Goldman said, “This was my
daughter.”
“Your daughter?” exclaimed Meyerson dismayed. “She
might as well be dead!”
Retorts
Rabbinical Limits
The saintly rabbi was deep in his devotions, praying with his
face turned to the wall. Suddenly, a practical joker came up
to him from behind and smacked him on his backside.
Startled, the rabbi turned around.
“Oh, Rabbi!” cried the joker, his teeth chattering with
fright. “The truth is . . . your back was turned ... I didn’t
recognize you ... I thought it was somebody else . . .
Please forgive me I ... I didn’t mean to . . .”
“Never mind!” the rabbi interrupted him. “There’s no
harm done — I’m no rabbi in my rear end.”
Montefiore and the Anti-Semite
Once the great Baron Montefiore of London visited the Em-
peror of Austria. At dinner, one of the Imperial Ministers,
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS 313
who was an anti-Semite, gave an account of his travels in
equatorial Africa.
“I didn’t see one pig or Jew there,” he remarked mali-
ciously to the champion of the Jews.
“In that case,” answered Montefiore, “it would be advis-
able that Your Excellency and I go there.”
Animated Conversation
Sholom Aleichem, the celebrated Yiddish writer, was once
seen by a friend talking to himself on the street.
“For heaven’s sake,” cried the friend, “do you realize
you’re talking to yourself?”
“And what if I do?” retorted Sholom Aleichem. “When at
last I’ve found a clever person to talk to — do you have to
butt in?”
The Snob
In a certain town there lived two brothers. One was a
rabbi — the other was a thief. The rabbi was ashamed of his
brother and always gave him a wide berth. One day, as the
two met by accident on the street, the rabbi deliberately
snubbed his brother. This enraged the thief who reproached
him:
“What makes you so stuck up? If I were stuck up I’d have
reason — my brother is a rabbi! But you have a brother who is
a thief, so why do you put on airs!”
Pessimist and Optimist
The eminent German-Jewish physician and philosopher, Mar-
cus Hertz, used to go calling on his patients in a carriage
which bore his monogram M.H. on the door.
“Why do you have such a suggestive monogram on your
carriage?” his friend Heinrich Heine, the poet, chided him,
“Don’t you know that in Hebrew M.H. stands for the Malech
H amoves (The Angel of Death)?”
“Ach, Heine, what a pessimist you are!” laughed the old
doctor. “Don’t you know that in Hebrew M.H. also stands
for Mechayai Hameissim (to give life to the dead)?”
THE HUMAN COMEDY
314
Why Not?
The prosecutor began to cross-examine the witness: “Do you
know the accused?”
“How should I know him?”
“Did he ever try to borrow money from you?”
“Why should he borrow money from me?”
Out of patience, the judge asked the witness, “Why do you
answer every question of the prosecutor with another ques-
tion?”
“Why not?”
Proper Distinctions
The Jewish communal official was summoned to court as a
witness in a case.
“Shochet Levy!” called out the Polish judge.
“I beg your pardon, Your Honor — my name is not Shochet
Levy,” the witness demurred. “I am Levy, the communal offi-
cial.”
But the judge was obstinate.
“In my records,” he persisted, “I read that, among other
things, you are also a slaughterer. I, therefore, am justified in
calling you ‘Shochet Levy.’ ”
“Your Honor,” replied the witness with dignity, “when I
stand before the court I’m Pan Levy. When I stand before
my congregation and conduct the service I’m Cantor Levy
and, when I stand before an ox. I’m Shochet Levy.”
Evil to Him . . .
A travelling charity collector was invited by a hospitable
villager to spend the night. Before the stranger went off to the
synagogue for evening prayer, his host noticed with surprise
that he clamped a padlock on the box in which he kept his
money. Offended by this, his host went and put his own pad-
lock on the box.
When the charity collector saw the unfamiliar padlock on
his box he was chagrined and asked his host, “What’s the idea
of putting a padlock on my box?”
“What do you mean ‘padlock’? There are two padlocks!”
“One of them is mine.”
“Why did you put it on?”
“W-e-1-1! You know how things are . . .
I’m away from
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS
315
home . . . among strangers . . . one has to be careful!
Things could be taken out of my box!”
“You’re absolutely right!” answered his host. “I feel the
same way about it. You know how it is ... a stranger in the
house . . . valuable things around . . . one has to be careful!
Things could be put into your box.”
Essential Trade
While patrolling the streets of Saint Petersburg two Czarist
policemen arrested a Jew who had no residence permit. When
the Jew came before the inspector he defended his right to
live in the capital on the grounds that he was an essential
worker. Not wishing to take the responsibility of a decision
on himself the inspector referred the matter to the Governor
of the city.
“What is this trade of yours that’s so essential?” the Gover-
nor asked the Jew when he was brought before him.
“I make ink!” modestly answered the Jew.
“What’s so essential about that?” asked the Governor con-
temptuously. “Why, even I could make ink if I wanted to!”
“That’s fine!” beamed the Jew. “In that case, your Excel-
lency has the right to live in Saint Petersburg too!”
Bitter Jests
Introduction
The bitter jests of the Jews are dipped in the gall and worm-
wood of their experience. Since the Book of Proverbs, the Jewish
folk have been saying: “Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful,
and the end of that mirth is heaviness.” This type of humor, of
course, is not unique to the Jews, but among them, however, it
has acquired deep undertones that stamp it with originality.
Jewish bitter jests exude a certain cosmic irony. They show the
rational intelligence of the Jew staggered by the cruel incongrui-
ties of his enemies’ conduct.
Most of the themes of these bitter jests treat of the luckless
fate of the Jews. Their mirth has a sardonic bite’ as it contem-
plates the bizarre helplessness of their position in a hostile world.
An anonymous Cervantes must have conceived the story, The
Life of a Jew! (see Jewish salt, page 18), which makes bitterly
merry over some of the so-called “protectors” of the Jews who,
the human comedy
out of a pretended solicitude for them, inflict on them as much
harm as their worst enemies. The ruefulness of the Jew in the
tace of the violation of every civilized value is sharply drawn in
the anecdote, The Independent Chicken, which describes an un-
equal encounter with Nazi storm-troopers. The helpless victim tries
to joke himself out of his fix, but his humor rings absurd in his
own ears, so outraged is his intelligence.
Where else could there have arisen such grim jests as God’s
Mercy and They Shoot First but out of the special conditions of
Jewish life? They are timeless in their application, for the in-
cidents they relate might easily have occurred in almost any age
m.~? Jewish Past. The story of Hitler’s Circus, for instance,
which has run through innumerable variants, could just as well
have held true in Roman days when, to amuse the “master-race,”
live Jews were thrown to the lions in the circus.
N.A.
The Independent Chicken
A Jew, carrying a chicken under his arm, was walking along
the street in Frankfort-am-Main. He was stopped by a Nazi
trooper who demanded, “Where are you going, Jew?”
To the store, to buy my chicken some food.”
And what will you feed this chicken?”
“Com.”
“Com, eh? Germans go hungry while you, Jew, feed your
chicken on German corn!” So saying, the trooper beat the
Jew, then went on his way.
,_■£ few minutes later another trooper stopped the Jew.
Where are you going, dog?”
“To the store, to buy my chicken some food.”
“Food, eh? What kind?”
“Some wheat, maybe.”
Wheat! Germans are starving and you give your Jewish
chicken wheat!” And he beat him severely.
The poor, battered Jew continued on his way and was
challenged by yet another trooper. “Where are you going?”
To get my chicken something to eat.”
“So! And what will you feed this chicken?”
“Listen,” said the Jew, desperately, “I don’t know. I’ll give
him a couple of pfennigs and he’ll buy what he likes!”
HUMOROUS ANECDOTES AND JESTS
317
Applied Psychology
In a little Southern town where the Klan was riding again, a
Jewish tailor had the temerity to open his little shop on the
main street. To drive him out of town the Kleagle of the
Klan set a gang of little ragamuffins to annoy him.
Day after day they stood at the entrance of his shop.
“Jew! Jew!” they hooted at him.
The situation looked serious for the tailor. He took the
matter so much to heart that he began to brood and spent
sleepless nights over it. Finally, out of desperation, he cooked
up a plan.
The following day, when the little hoodlums came to jeer
at him, he came to the door and said to them, “From today
on any boy who calls me ‘Jew’ will get a dime from me.”
Then he put his hand in his pocket and gave each boy a
dime.
Delighted with their booty the boys came back the follow-
ing day and began to shrill: “Jew! Jew!”
The tailor came out smiling. He put his hand in his pocket
and gave each of the boys a nickel, saying, “A dime is too
much — I can afford only a nickel today.”
The boys went away satisfied because, after all, a nickel
was money too.
However, when they returned the next day to hoot at him
the tailor gave them only a penny each.
“Why do we get only a penny today?” they yelled.
“That’s all I can afford today.”
“But two days ago you gave us a dime, and yesterday we
got a nickel. It’s not fair, mister!”
“Take it or leave it. That’s all you’re going to get!”
“Do you think we’re going to call you ‘Jew’ for one lousy
penny?”
“So don’t!”
And they didn’t
Handicapped
An old patriarchal Jew from a small Polish town was on his
way to Warsaw. Opposite him in the train sat a Jew-hating
“Pilsudski Colonel” with his dog.
The officer openly showed his contempt for the old Jew.
Whenever he spoke to his dog he called him “Yankel.” But
the Jew said nothing. Finally, it got under his skin.
318
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“What a pity that the poor dog has a Jewish name!” he
muttered.
“Why so?” asked the Colonel
“With such a name as ‘Yankel’ he just has no chance!” re-
plied the Jew. “It’s a real handicap. Without it — who knows?
He could even become a colonel in Pilsudski’s army!”
God’s Mercy
A great calamity threatened the little Ukrainian village.
Shortly before the Passover holidays a young peasant girl had
been found murdered. Those who hated the Jews quickly
took advantage of the unhappy incident and went about
among the peasants, inflaming them with the slander that the
Jews had killed the girl in order to use her Christian blood
for making matzos. The fury of the peasants knew no
bounds.
A report spread like wildfire throughout the village that a
pogrom was in the offing.
Dismayed by the news the pious ran to the synagogue.
They rent their garments, and prostrated themselves before
the. Holy Ark. As they were sending up their prayers for
divine intercession, the shammes ran in breathlessly.
Brothers brothers!” he gasped. “I have wonderful news
for you! We’ve just discovered, God be praised, that the mur-
dered girl was Jewish!”
They Shoot First
A travelling circus once came to a Jewish town. It had all
kinds of performing animals, among them a bear. One day
the bear broke out of its cage. Thereupon, the chief of police
issued an order that the bear should be shot on sight.
The news that the bear was on the loose frightened the in-
habitants of the town. One Jew said to another, “I’m leaving
town!” 6
“What for?”
“What do you mean ‘what for’? Haven’t you heard the po-
lice chief’s order to shoot the bear on sight?”
“Well, you’re no bear.”
, “jhfi Yhatr y0U Say! Before y°u know it some Jew will
be shot. Only afterwards they’ll find out he’s no bear. . . .”
319
humorous anecdotes and jests
Sedition Saved Him
A Jew was drowning in the Dnieper River. He cried for help.
Two Czarist policemen ran up. When they saw it was a Jew,
they said, “Let the Jew drown!”
When the man saw his strength was ebbing he shouted
with all his might, “Down with the Czar!”
Hearing such seditious words, the policemen plunged in,
pulled him out, and arrested bim.
Hitler's Circus
A circus came to a Bavarian town shortly after Hitler
decreed the Nuremberg laws against the Jews. Posters were
pasted up all over the town announcing the various attrac-
tions but stressing the main feature which was to consist of a
man dressed in the skin of a lion who would enter the cage
of a tiger to wrestle with him
The circus had advertised for a man to do this dangerous
job, but the only applicant to show up was a Jew with the de-
grading yellow badge on his arm.
“Why, you’re a Jew!” exclaimed the manager in amaze-
ment.
“Who else but a Jew would accept such a job?” replied the
applicant bitterly. “No one will give me any employment be-
cause of my race,”
Aren’t you afraid?” the manager asked with a laugh.
“This is dangerous — you may be killed by the tiger!”
XfS’ ^ ^now> but it doesn’t matter,” replied the Jew wea-
rily. “I have to take this chance for my starving family.”
And so the Jew was hired.
On the day of the opening a great crowd turned out to see
the main feature; it promised to be very exciting indeed. The
circus was filled to the tent-top.
When the main feature came on the Jew appeared. He was
trembling in every limb and, before the very eyes of the spec-
tators, he put on a lion’s skin. Then, roaring like a real lion
and crawling on all-fours, he opened the tiger’s cage and
dashed in. As he came face to face with the terrible tiger and
looked into his cruel green eyes he was frantic with fear.
“It’s all over with me now,” he said to himself and he cried
out in an unearthly voice the creed Jews recite in the face of
death:
“Shema Yisroel! Hear O Israel! — ”
320
THE HUMAN COMEDY
“Adonoy Elohenu adonoy echod! The Lord our God, the
Lord is One,” fervently finished the tiger.
“Why you scared me out of my wits — I thought you were
a real tiger!” the lion rebuked him.
“Listen, uncle,” snorted the tiger. “What makes you think
you’re the only Jew in Germany trying to make a living?”
Wasted Protection
Gottlieb, the proprietor of a little candy-store, had his
money deposited in a savings bank. When business began go-
ing badly he went to the bank, drew his last $73.19 and had
his account closed. As he walked out with reluctant steps,
feeling sad and let down by the world, he saw the armed
guard at the door. Impulsively he walked up to him and said,
“My friend, for my part you can go home — there’s nothing to
guard anymore!”
Pity
Little Mary McHale liked the boy who sat next to her in
school and talked of him incessantly to her mother. “What is
he?” she asked, one day.
“Why, he’s an American, of course, just like you,” said the
mother.
“I know that,” answered Mary, “but what else is he?”
“Oh,” said her mother, “that! Why, he’s a Jew.”
“So young,” mused little Mary, “and already a Jew . .
PART FOUR
Tales and Legends
1
Biblical Sidelights
Introduction
Jewish religious lore was never fully frozen into canon. It was
in a constant state of organic growth and left room for further
elaboration and interpretive deepening. This dynamic purpose was
served by the vast literature of the Midrash. The Midrash attempt-
ed to penetrate into the spirit of the Bible by revealing its inner
meanings which were not in literal evidence in the text. The Tal-
mud describes the expository method of the Midrash as: “A ham-
mer which awakens the slumbering sparks in the rock.” This it
tried to do, as we have already noted, by means of legends, para-
bles, myths, fables and ethical sayings.
This body of folklore came into being because the masses of
the people found the Scriptural text insufficient for their under-
standing. The folk were eager for deeper and more interior ex-
planations of the characters and incidents recorded in the Bible.
This need may be seen from the fact that the voluminous litera-
ture of the Midrash was in continuous growth until about the
time of the Crusades.
The mass-mind had a natural inclination to seek a personal
identity with its national heroes. This resulted in a remarkable in-
dividualization in the Midrash writings of all outstanding Biblical
worthies from Adam down to Jonah and his whale. It goes with-
out saying that the Midrash hardly wields the same religious au-
thority as Scripture. Nonetheless, its very vivid characterizations
of Bible personages, with its added wealth of details and in-
cidents, have in many ways superseded the Scripture versions in
the folk-fancy. It is both the nature and the power of folklore
that the people themselves serve as the recreators of that which
they are taught.
Not always does the Midrash legend follow closely the Bible
text. Frequently the unknown folk poet finds in some general situ-
ation indicated in Scripture, a convenient pretext for his narrative
creations. Thus God’s fashioning of the world as recounted in
322
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS
323
Genesis gave him the opportunity to weave such exquisite allego-
ries as The Secret of Power [see Jewish salt, page 20] and The
First Tear. With its celebrated informality the Midrash even of-
fers leeway for banter. A folk-humorist, who wished to make
merry over certain failings allegedly peculiar to women, even
composed a tongue-in-cheek “takeoff” on the Bible text which
deals with God’s creation of Eve out of one of Adam’s ribs.
In the entire history of the Jewish people there was no person-
ality that left its stamp on the Jewish consciousness as indelibly
as Moses. The folk regarded him not only as its greatest hero, its
supreme prophet, its lawgiver and its ruler, but also as its teacher.
That is why for three thousand years Jews have referred to him
as Mosheh Rabbenu (Moses, Our Teacher). The love and vener-
ation of the people for him in every generation knew no bounds.
Jews were drawn to him by those ties of intimacy created by the
need of a weak and persecuted people for a protector-father. For
them he possessed all the intellectual and moral qualities required
for such a role. He it was who had led them out of the Land of
Bondage; he had stilled their hunger and quenched their thirst
during the forty years of wandering in the wilderness; and he had
shielded them against God’s wrath when they offended Him with
their misdeeds.
Of all the stirring Moses legends in the Midrash, that which
describes his solitary death on the summit of Mount Pisgah has
lain closest to the hearts of the people. The Bible account of it
troubled them. They found it hard to understand why, after hav-
ing suffered and battled all his life on their and God’s behalf, he
should have been condemned by the Divine Will to die at the
very gates of the Promised Land. The moral question for many
became challenging; was there no reward for virtue? If Moses,
the most righteous man who ever lived, was denied the just at-
tainment of his strivings, how could they, sinners and backsliders
all, ever hope for forgiveness and the peace of the World-to-
Come?
Out of these troubled gropings of the Jewish folk-mind, out of
its compelling need to reconcile divine justice with the limitations,
of life, emerged the Midrash, Petirat Mosheh, The Death of
Moses.
The Prophet Elijah has been the subject of a greater number of
legends than any other Bible hero. In the totality of all these
legends, naive in character as they may appear, he is built up
into a highly individuali2ed personality — partly human, partly
divine. His principal mission, as it appears in most of these
legends, is to counsel and protect the common folk in times of
trouble. In short, he is an invisible household friend.
324
THE HUMAN COMEDY
Elijah is pictured in legend as being gentle, benign and tolerant
of human failings. To the poor he gives material help, to the sor-
rowful he gives comfort. Like a devoted shepherd he watches
over the sheep that have gone astray, pleading their cause before
God with the fervor of a father petitioning for his children.
Much of Rabbinic and later legend about Elijah is based upon
the Agada belief that he did not die like other mortals but was
Translated” to Heaven while still alive, swept aloft in a chariot of
fire by a whirlwind.
Because the Prophet Malachi foretold that God would send Eli-
jah as a forerunner of the Messiah before “the great and dreadful
day,” he has been associated in the Jewish folk-mind with the
mysterious designs of Providence. And, added to the fact of his
miraculous “translation” for which he is called, in the Agada,
The Bird of Heaven,” popular fancy has assigned to him a
unique role— to be guide and helper to the souls of men in the
World-to-Come. The folk conception sees him as a benevolent
friend standing at the crossroads of Paradise and Hell. The souls
of the pious he escorts to their appointed places in Paradise; those
of the sinner, out of compassion for their torments, he conducts
out of Hell for their “day of rest” on the Sabbath and returns
them forthwith at the close of the Sabbath.
Because of Elijah s “translation” to Heaven the folk-mind con-
siders that he never really died and will remain immortal. Cabal-
istic literature endows him with supernatural attributes as an
angel of the highest rank. Thus he can move about among men
on earth in time, space and eternity, taking on human shape
whenever he chooses. His disguises, of course, are protean be-
cause his humility obliges him to dispense his benevolence incog-
nito. It is only after Elijah has departed that his true identity is
discovered.
In cabalistic and Hasidic folklore, Elijah is delineated as the
eternally wandering Jew who never finds rest from the missions
of mercy he has to perform. This conception, of course, has no
connection with the well-known medieval legend of the Wander-
ing Jew which is anti-Semitic in character. Jewish folk-fancy pic-
tures Elijah with all the loving details of informality. He is a
plain Jew, shabbily dressed, with a wanderer’s sack slung over his
shoulder, trudging along his solitary way, dusty and footsore. In
this humble guise, legend usually has him appear before the af-
flicted, the needy and the sorely beset to help them in then-
distress. Probably from this popular visualization of Elijah as the
anonymous doer of good hiding behind the humility of his plain-
ness, emerged the mysterious figures of the Lamed-Vav-Tzad-
dikim, the Thirty-Six Hidden Saints.
As an intimate friend, though usually invisible, the plain folk
have always accorded Elijah a hearty welcome by means of a
quamt symbolism. During the rite of circumcision, for instance,
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 325
Elijah served as the “Angel of the Covenant.” Therefore, in his
honor, the most comfortable chair in the household is reserved
for him and is placed at the right hand of the sandek, or godfa-
ther. This is designated as “Elijah’s Chair.” In orthodox homes it
also is the custom during the Seder home service on Passover Eve
to pour a cup of wine for him and for the youngest child to open
the door in order “to let Elijah in.” Symbolically he thus spends
this most convivial of all Jewish festivals in the bosom of every
family.
King Solomon ( Shelomo Ha-Melech) too occupies a foremost
position in legendary lore. His wisdom, which became proverbial,
marked him for the hero-as-sage in many Midrashic legends.
The Solomonic folklore literature is very considerable. This is
not only because of the material splendor which characterized
Solomon’s reign — which legend magnified a thousand-fold — but
principally because most Jews revered wisdom. Tradition has it,
of course, that King Solomon was the author of many wisdom
books: the Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes and the Book of Proverbs
in the Old Testament, and of the pseudoepigraphic works: the
Psalms of Solomon, The Testament of Solomon and The Wisdom
of Solomon. The Rabbinic writers of those days sometimes wrote
anonymously or they modestly hid their individuality under the
name and prestige of King Solomon.
King Solomon was fabled to be so wise that he could read the
guilt or the innocence of those he judged merely by looking into
their faces. He was also considered to be one of the prophets
upon whom the Shekhina or Divine Radiance dwelled. When the
Shekhina descended upon him, legend has it, he was inspired to
write the Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes, and the Book of Proverbs.
Because he had chosen the pursuit of wisdom for his goal, the
folk believed that God had rewarded him with the splendor of
power and great riches. He also gave him dominion over the up-
per world of angels, over the nether world of spirits and demons,
over all the earth and its inhabitants, including beasts and rep-
tiles, birds and fishes. During the forty years of his reign, some
of the laws of nature were miraculously reversed: for instance,
the full moon never waned. All living creatures obeyed his com-
mand, the eagle especially serving as his messenger and principal
means of conveyance. When he built the Temple, reputed by
legend to have been the most beautiful structure the world had
ever seen, angels and demons helped him in the task. He hewed
the immense stones which sent into its construction by means of
the magical worm, the Shamir [see King Solomon and the
Worm: demon tales, page 421].
It is indeed curious that only in later Midrashic legends was
Solomon hero-worshipped. In earlier folklore he was held up to
righteous scorn for having negated by his conduct the wisdom he
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
affected. With one solitary exception, the sages used him as a
springboard for their ethical preachments. They charged he was
no wise man at all, for only a fool would be so concerned with
accumulating a thousand wives, owning innumerable horses and
hoarding untold gold and silver to no good purpose. Moreover,
they castigated him for being overweeningly proud of his wis-
dom. Of Ecclesiastes, they said it could hardly be considered a
sacred work because it represented only the wisdom of Solomon.
Vivid in the recollection of the Jewish folk is their memory of
the Prophet Jeremiah. Next to Moses they revere him most,
conceive him in terms of moral grandeur. In the A gad a Jeremiah
and Moses are often linked together as having experienced the
same trials. A Midrash says: “As Moses was a prophet for forty
years, so was Jeremiah; as Moses prophesied concerning Judah
and Benjamin, so did Jeremiah; as Moses’ own tribe (the Levites
under Korah) rose up against him, so did Jeremiah’s tribe revolt
against him; Moses was cast into the water, Jeremiah into a
pit . . .; Moses reprimanded the people in discourse, so did Jere-
miah.”
The Jewish folk revered Jeremiah not only for his prophetic
writings and the Book of Lamentations which is credited to him
by tradition, but because of his selfless labors on behalf of his
people. Moreover Midrashic legend is steeped in a national con-
sciousness of guilt toward him. This is because Jews believe that,
while he had devoted his life to his people and was persecuted on
their account, they had not heeded his pleas and warnings to re-
turn to righteousness. Thus, because of their many transgressions,
God had punished them. The Babylonian invader, Nebuchadnez-
zar, served as God’s instrument of retribution, and he destroyed
the Temple that Solomon had built and led the Children of Israel
into captivity.
The Sorrow of Jeremiah undoubtedly represents the most ele-
giac of all Jewish legends. The folk-mind identifies itself emotion-
ally with the Prophet Jeremiah’s sorrowful reflections and with
their people’s historic misfortunes. The legend gives utterance to
a national grief perhaps unmatched in all folklore.
N.A.
The Making of Adam 1
When the Creator wished to make man he consulted with the
ministering angels beforehand, and said unto them: “We will
make a man in our image.”
The angels asked: “What is man that Thou shouldst re-
member him, and what is his purpose?”
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS
327
“He will do justice,” said the Lord.
And the ministering angels were divided into groups.
Some said: “Let not man be created.”
But others said: “Let him be created.”
Forgiveness said: “Let him be created, for he will be gen-
erous and benevolent.”
Peace objected and said: “Let him not be created, for he
will constantly wage wars.”
Justice said: “Let him be created, for he will bring justice
into the world.”
Truth said: “Let him not be created, for he will be a liar.”
The Creator then hurled Truth from Heaven to earth, and,
in spite of the protests of the angels, man was created.
“His knowledge,” said the Creator, “will excel yours, and
tomorrow you will see his wisdom.”
The Creator then gathered all kinds of beasts before the
ministering angels, the wild and the tame beasts, as well as
the birds, and the fowls of the air, and asked the ministering
angels to name them, but they could not.
“Now you will see the wisdom of man,” spake the Creator.
“I will ask him and he will tell their names.”
All the beasts and fowls of the air were then led before
man, and when asked he at once replied: “This is an ox, the
other an ass, yonder a horse and a camel.”
“And what is your own name?”
“I,” replied man, “should be called Adam because I have
been created from adama or earth.”
The First Tear 2
After Adam and Eve had been banished from the Garden
of Eden, God saw that they were penitent and took their fall
very much to heart. And as He is a Compassionate Father
He said to them gently:
“Unfortunate children! I have punished you for your sin
and have driven you out of the Garden of Eden where you
were living without care and in great well-being. Now you
are about to enter into a world of sorrow and trouble the like
of which staggers the imagination. However, I want you to
know that My benevolence and My love for you will never
end. I know that you will meet with a lot of tribulation in the
world and that it will embitter your lives. For that reason I
give you out of My heavenly treasure this priceless pearl.
328
THE HOMAN COMEDY
Look! It is a tear! And when grief overtakes you and your
heart aches so that you are not able to endure it, and great
anguish grips your soul, then there will fall from your eyes
this tiny tear. Your burden will grow lighter then.”
When Adam and Eve heard these words sorrow overcame
them. Tears welled up in their eyes, rolled down their cheeks
and fell to earth.
And it was these tears of anguish that first moistened the
earth. Adam and Eve left them as a precious inheritance to
their children. And since then, whenever a human being is in
great trouble and his heart aches and his spirit is oppressed
then the tears begin to flow from his eyes, and lo! the gloom
is lifted.
Falsehood and Wickedness
After Noah had completed the building of the ark, the ani-
mals were gathered together near it by the angels appointed
over them. They came in pairs, and Noah stood at the door
of the ark to see that each one entered with its mate. As soon
as the waters of the flood rose upon the surface of the earth,
the children of men hid themselves in their homes for safety.
All traffic and business ceased, for the angel of death was
abroad. This state of affairs caused Falsehood to realize that
henceforth there was no chance of her plying her trade. Was
it not quite evident that the ever-increasing waters of the
flood would soon sweep away the wicked folk who had re-
belled against their Heavenly Creator? Where should False-
hood betake herself for safety?
Forthwith she hastened to the ark, but its door was shut
What was to be done?
Falsehood knocked at the door with trembling hand. Noah
opened the window of the ark, and put out his head to see
who was knocking. It was a strange creature before the door.
Noah had never seen her before, because he was a righteous
man who never told lies.
“What dost thou want?” he cried.
“Let me go in, please,” she replied.
“Gladly,” cried Noah, “would I admit thee if thy mate
were with thee, for only pairs are admitted here.”
In grief and disappointment Falsehood went away. She had
not gone a few yards before she met her old friend Wicked-
ness, who was now out of employment.
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 329
“Whence cometh thou, dear friend Falsehood?’ asked
Wickedness.
“I come,” said Falsehood, “from old father Noah. Just lis-
ten. I asked him to let me come into the ark, but he refused
unless I complied with his rules.”
“What does he require?” asked Wickedness.
“The good old man stipulated that I must have a mate, be-
cause all the creatures admitted into the ark are in pairs,”
Falsehood replied.
“Now, dear friend, is this the truth?” queried Wickedness
with a merry twinkle in his evil eye.
“Of course it is the truth, on my word of honour,” rejoined
Falsehood. “Come now,” she added, “wilt thou be my mate?
Are we not just fit to be joined together, two honest and poor
creatures?”
“If I agree," said Wickedness, “what wilt thou give me in
return?”
Falsehood thought awhile and with a cunning look at her
friend she exclaimed, “I faithfully promise to give to thee all
that I earn in the ark. Have no fear, I shall do excellent
business even there, because I feel very fit and energetic.”
Wickedness agreed to the terms immediately, and there and
then a proper agreement was drawn up, and duly signed and
sealed. Without further delay they both hastened to Noah, who
readily admitted the happy pair.
Falsehood soon began to be very busy and earned good
money. She often thought of her agreement with Wickedness
with regret, as she realized that she alone did all the business.
She even said to him one day, “Look here, how easily I can
carry on my trade singlehanded!”
Wickedness merely reminded her of the agreement, and day
by day he wrote down in his ledger the sum total of the day’s
takings.
At the end of the year, for the flood lasted twelve months,
they came out of the ark. Falsehood brought home much
treasure, but Wickedness came with her and claimed the
whole of the hard-earned fortune. Thereupon Falsehood said
to herself, “J will ask my mate to give me some of my earn-
ings.”
She approached Wickedness and in a gentle voice said,
“Dearest friend, please give me a share of what I have so
honestly earned, for I alone did all the work.”
Wickedness looked at her in contempt and with harsh
3-30
the human comedy
voice cried aloud, “Thy share is nought, O cheat! Did we not
solemnly agree that I was to take everything which thou
shouldest earn? How could I break our agreement? Would
this not be a very wicked thing to do, now would it not?”
Falsehood held her peace and went away, well knowing
that she had been foiled in her attempt to cheat her friend
Wickedness.
True indeed is the proverb: “Falsehood begets much, but
Wickedness taketh all that away.”
Abraham and the Idols1
Terah, the father of Abraham, was himself an idol worship-
per; he even carried on a substantial trade in idols.
One day he had to leave home and left his shop full of
idols in charge of his son Abraham who was then very
young.
Soon an idol worshipper came in and wished to buy an
idol.
“How old are you?” asked Abraham.
“Fifty years,” answered the idolator.
“What! An old man like you bows down before a mere
image that was just finished yesterday! Think it over.”
The seeds of Truth were thus planted in the heart of the
idolator.
Another time, again while his father Terah was away, a
woman came and placed before the idols in the shop a bowl
of flour as a sacrificial offering. No sooner had the woman
left when Abraham picked up a stick and broke all the idols.
Only one, the largest, did he spare. In the hand of this one
Abraham then stuck the stick.
Upon his return Terah saw the destruction Abraham had
wrought among the idols. He flung himself upon him, crying
“Who did this?”
“Just listen, father, and be amazed!” replied Abraham se-
renely. “A woman came and brought a full bowl of flour for
an offering. I placed the bowl at the feet of the idols. Imme-
diately, a murderous battle broke out among them. Each of
the idols said the flour was meant for him. While they all
squabbled and pulled, the largest of them, determined to
create order, picked up a stick and . . . See for yourself— he
killed them all!”
“You ne’er-do-well!” cried Abraham’s father. “How can
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 331
you say the idols squabbled and pulled when they can neither
speak nor understand?”
“Father, father!” replied Abraham, “the holy truth lies in
your words!”
Abraham Before Nimrod6
The report reached Nimrod’s ears that Abraham was mock-
ing the idols, so he ordered that the boy be brought before
him.
Nimrod turned his gaze on him and said imperiously.
Here is fire; worship it!”
“My Lord,” answered Abraham fearlessly, “wouldn’t it be
better to worship water since it can put out the fire?”
"Let it be as you say: worship water!”
“Shall I do an injustice to the clouds which give the earth
all its water?”
“Very well then: worship the clouds!”
“But how can the clouds compare with the winds who have
the power to scatter them?”
“Then worship the wind!”
“The wind? What will He who directs the fire, water,
clouds and wind say to that? ... O you blind man! Don’t
you perceive the mighty Hand that guides the world?”
The King was abashed and, turning away, left young Abra-
ham in peace.
God Protects the Heathen Too9
Once, as Patriarch Abraham sat at the entrance of his
tent, he saw an old tired man approach. Abraham arose and
ran forward to bid him welcome. He begged him to enter his
tent and rest, but the old man declined the invitation and
said, “No, thank you! I will take my rest under a tree.”
But, after Abraham continued to press him with his hos-
pitable attentions the old man allowed himself to be persuaded
and entered the tent.
Abraham placed before him goat’s milk and butter and
baked for him fresh cakes. The stranger ate until he was sat-
isfied. Then Abraham said to him, “Now praise the Lord, the
God of Heaven and earth, Who gives bread to all His crea-
tures!”
“I do not know your God,” replied the old man coldly. “I
will only praise the god that my hands have fashioned!”
332
THE HUMAN COMEDY
Then Abraham spoke to the old man, told him of God’s
greatness and loving kindness. He tried to convince him that
his idols were senseless things who could neither help nor
save anyone. He urged him therefore to abandon them and
put his faith in the one true God and thank Him for His
gracious acts that He did for him every day. But to all of
Abraham’s fervent pleas the old man answered indignantly,
“How dare you talk to me this way, trying to turn me away
from my gods! You and I have nothing in common, so do
not impose on me any further with your words, because I
will not heed them!”
At this Abraham grew very angry and cried out, “Old
man, leave my tent!”
Without a word the old man departed and he was swal-
lowed up by the dark night and the desert.
When the Almighty saw this He grew very wrathful and
appeared before Abraham.
“Where is the man who came to you this night?” He asked
sternly.
‘The old man was stubborn,” replied Abraham. “I tried to
persuade him that if he believed in You everything would be
well with him. He refused to heed my words so I grew angry
and drove him out of my tent.”
Then spoke God: “Have you considered what you have
done? Reflect for one moment: Here am I, the God of all
Creation — and yet have I endured the unbelief of this old
man for so many years. I clothed and fed him and supplied
all his needs. But when he came to you for just one night you
dispensed with all duties of hospitality and compassion and
drove him into the wilderness!”
Then Abraham fell upon his face and prayed to God that
He forgive him his sin.
“I will not forgive you,” said God, “unless you first ask
forgiveness from the heathen to whom you have done evil!”
Swiftly, Abraham ran out of his tent and into the desert
and after much searching found the old man. Then he fell at
his feet and wept and begged for his forgiveness. The old
man was moved by Abraham’s pleas and he forgave him.
Again God revealed Himself to Abraham and said, “Be-
cause you have done what is righteous in My eyes I will
never forget My covenant with your posterity. When they
sin I will punish them, but never will I sever My covenant
with them!”
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS
333
Moses the Shepherd*
One day, whfle Moses was grazing his flock, he noticed that
a little goat had strayed away, so he ran after it for fear that
it would get lost and die of hunger and thirst in the wilder-
ness.
Suddenly, from a distance, Moses saw the little goat stop
and drink eagerly from a spring. Then he understood that the
little animal was thirsty and for that reason had left the flock.
When Moses came nigh it he said, “My dear little goatkin!
Had I known that you were only thirsty I would not have run
after you.”
When the little goat had quenched its thirst, Moses placed
it upon his shoulders and carried it all the way back to the
flock. “The little goat is weak and young,” he thought com-
passionately, “therefore I must carry it.”
When God saw what Moses had done He was greatly
pleased and said to him, “Deep is your compassion, O Moses!
Because of your kindness to this little animal you will be the
leader of My people Israel, and are destined to serve as their
devoted shepherd.”
Israel Undying*
Moses was grazing his flock deep in the wilderness and far
from the habitation of men. Once, when he came to Mount
Horab, he saw a thorn bush. It looked ugly and forbidding. It
was stunted and its branches were full of briars. As he gazed
upon it Moses mused bitterly: “To this thorn bush in the wil-
derness, O my people of Israel, can you be likened! You are
as lowly and all who see you shun you!”
And as he stood thus lost in sorrowful thought about the
suffering of his people, suddenly he saw that the bush was en-
veloped in flame. Startled, Moses cried out: ‘To this thorn
bush have I compared my people Israel, when alas — out of it
must spring forth a flame to consume it! O my Lord God,
must my people perish?”
And when Moses saw how the thorn bush burned and yet
was not consumed his sorrow vanished and he was filled with
exceeding joy. Then he heard the Voice saying: “Even as the
thorn bush is not consumed by the flame, so will the Jewish
people endure. All the fires of hate that will be kindled
334
THE HUMAN COMEDY
against it will be put out, and no evil and misfortune will be
able to destroy it!”
The Crossing of the Red Sea9
God spake to Moses, saying, “Why dost thou stand here
praying? My children’s prayer has anticipated thine. For thee
there is naught to do but lift up thy rod and stretch out thine
hand over the sea, and divide it.” . . .
Moses spoke to the sea as God had bidden him, but it re-
plied, “I will not do according to thy words, for thou art only
a man bom of woman, and, besides, I am three days older
than thou, O man, for I was brought forth on the third day
of creation, and thou on the sixth.” Moses lost no time, but
carried back to God the words the sea had spoken, and the
Lord said: “. . . Lift up thy rod, and stretch out thine hand
over the sea, and divide it.”
Thereupon Moses raised up his rod— the rod that had been
created at the very beginning of the world, on which were
graven in plain letters the great and exalted Name, the names
of the ten plagues inflicted upon the Egyptians, and the
names of the three Fathers, the six Mothers, and the twelve
tribes of Jacob. This rod he lifted up, and stretched it out
over the sea.
The sea, however, continued in its perverseness, and Moses
entreated God to give His command direct to it. But God re-
fused, saying: “Were I to command the sea to divide, it
would never again return to its former estate. Therefore,’ do
thou convey My order to it, that it be not drained dry for-
ever. But I will let a semblance of My strength accompany
thee, and that will compel its obedience.” When the sea saw
the Strength of God at the right hand of Moses, it spoke to
the earth, saying, “Make hollow places for me, that I may
hide myself therein before the Lord of all created things
blessed be He.” Noticing the terror of the sea, Moses said to
it: “For a whole day I spoke to thee at the bidding of the
Holy One, who desired thee to divide, but thou didst refuse
to pay heed to my words; even when I showed thee my rod,
thou didst remain obdurate. What hath happened now that
thou skippest hence?” The sea replied, “I am fleeing, not be-
fore thee, but before the Lord of all created things, that His
Name be magnified in all the earth.” And the waters of the
Red Sea divided, and not they alone, but all the water in
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS
335
heaven and on earth, In whatever vessel it was, in cisterns, in
wells, in caves, in casks, in pitchers, in drinking cups, and in
glasses, and none of these waters returned to their former es-
tate until Israel had passed through the sea on dry land. . . .
God caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind, the
wind He always makes use of when He chastises the nations.
The same east wind had brought the deluge; it had laid the
tower of Babel in ruins; it was to cause the destruction of Sa-
maria, Jerusalem, and Tyre and it will, in future, be the in-
strument for castigating Rome drunken with pleasure; and
likewise the sinners in Gehenna are punished by means of
this east wind. All night long God made it to blow over the
sea. To prevent the enemy from inflicting harm upon the Is-
raelites, He enveloped the Egyptians in profound darkness, so
impenetrable it could be felt, and none could move or change
his posture. He that sat when it fell could not arise from his
place, and he that stood could not sit down. Nevertheless, the
Egyptians could see that the Israelites were surrounded by
bright light, and were enjoying a banquet where they stood,
and when they tried to speed darts and arrows against them,
the missiles were caught up by the cloud and by the angels
hovering between the two camps, and no harm came to Is-
rael.
On the morning after the eventful night, though the sea
was not yet made dry land, the Israelites, full of trust in God,
were ready to cast themselves into its waters. The tribes con-
tended with one another for the honor of being the first to
jump. Without awaiting the outcome of the wordy strife, the
tribe of Benjamin sprang in, and the princes of Judah were so
incensed at having been deprived of pre-eminence in danger
that they pelted die Benjamites with stones. God knew that
the Judaeans and the Benjamites were animated by a praise-
worthy purpose. The ones like the others desired but to mag-
nify the Name of God, and He rewarded both tribes: in
Benjamin’s allotment the Shekinah took up her residence, and
the royalty of Israel was conferred upon Judah.
When God saw the two tribes in the waves of the sea, He
called upon Moses, and said: “My beloved are in danger of
drowning, and thou standest by and prayest. Bid Israel go
forward, and thou lift up thy rod over the sea, and divide it.”
Thus it happened, and Israel passed through the sea with its
waters cleft in twain.
The dividing of the sea was but the first of ten miracles
336
the human comedy
connected with the passage of the Israelites through it. The
others were that the waters united in a vault above their
heads; twelve paths opened up, one for each of the tribes; the
water became as transparent as glass, and each tribe could
see the others; the soil underfoot was dry, but it changed into
clay when the Egyptians stepped upon it; the walls of water
were transformed into rocks, against which the Egyptians
were thrown and dashed to death, while before the Israelites
they crumbled away into bits. Through the brackish sea
flowed a stream of soft water, at which the Israelites could
slake their thirst; and, finally, the tenth wonder was, that this
drinking water was congealed in the heart of the sea as soon
as they had satisfied their need.
And there were other miracles, besides. The sea yielded the
Israelites whatever their hearts desired. If a child cried as it
lay in the arms of its mother, she needed but to stretch out
her hand and pluck an apple or some other fruit and quiet it
The waters were piled up to the height of sixteen hundred
miles, and they could be seen by all the nations of the
earth. . . .
Wonderful as were the miracles connected with the rescue
of the Israelites from the waters of the sea, those performed
when the Egyptians were drowned were no less remarkable.
First of all God felt called upon to defend Israel’s cause be-
fore Uzza, the Angel of the Egyptians, who would not allow
his people to perish in the waters of the sea. He appeared on
the spot at the very moment when God wanted to drown the
Egyptians, and he spake: “O Lord of the world! Thou art
called just and upright, and before Thee there is no wrong,
no forgettting, no respecting of persons. Why, then, dost Thou
desire to make my children perish in the sea? Canst Thou say
that my children drowned or slew a single one of Thine? If it
be on account of the rigorous slavery that my children im-
posed upon Israel, then consider that Thy children have re-
ceived their wages, in that they took their silver and golden
vessels from them.”
Then God convoked all the members of His celestial
family, and He spake to the angel hosts: “Judge ye in truth
between Me and yonder Uzza, the Angel of the Egyptians.
At the first I brought a famine upon his people, and I ap-
pointed My friend Joseph over them, who saved them
through his sagacity, and they all became his slaves. Then My
children went down into their land as strangers, in conse-
quence of the famine, and they made the children of Israel to
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 337
serve with rigor in all maimer of hard work there is in the
world. They groaned on account of their bitter service, and
their cry rose up to Me, and I sent Moses and Aaron, My
faithful messengers, to Pharaoh. When they came before the
king of Egypt, they spake to him, Thus said the Lord, the
God of Israel, Let My people go, that they may hold a feast
unto Me in the wilderness.’ In the presence of the kings of
the East and of the West, that sinner began to boast, saying:
Who is the Lord, that I should hearken unto His voice, to let
Israel go? Why comes He not before me, like all the kings of
the world, and why doth He not bring me a present like the
others? This God of whom you speak, I know Him not at all.
Wait and let me search my lists, and see whether I can find
His Name.’ But his servants said, ‘We have heard that He is
the son of the wise, the son of ancient kings.’ Then Pharaoh
asked My messengers, ‘What are the works of this God?’ and
they replied, ‘He is the God of gods, the Lord of lords, who
created the heaven and the earth.’ But Pharaoh doubted their
words, and said, ‘There is no God in all the world that can
accomplish such works beside me, for I made myself, and I
made the Nile river.’ Because he denied Me thus, I sent ten
plagues upon him, and he was compelled to let My children
go. Yet, in spite of all, he did not leave off from his wicked
ways, and he tried to bring them back under his bondage.
Now, seeing all that hath happened to him, and that he will
not acknowledge Me as God and Lord, does he not deserve
to be drowned in the sea with his host?”’
The celestial family called out when the Lord had ended
His defense, “Thou hast every right to drown him in the
sea!”
Uzza heard their verdict, and he said: “O Lord of all
worlds! I know that my people deserve the punishment Thou
has decreed, but may it please Thee to deal with them ac-
cording to Thy attribute of mercy, and take pity upon the
work of Thy hands, for Thy tender mercies are over all Thy
works!”
Almost the Lord had yielded to Uzza’s entreaties, when
Michael gave a sign to Gabriel that made him fly to Egypt
swiftly and fetch thence a brick for which a Hebrew child
had been used as mortar. Holding this incriminating object in
his hand, Gabriel stepped into the presence of God, and said:
“O Lord of the world! Wilt Thou have compassion with the
accursed nation that has slaughtered Thy children so era-
338
THE HUMAN COMEDY
elly?” Then the Lord turned Himself away from His attribute
of mercy, and seating Himself upon His throne of justice He
resolved to drowp the Egyptians in the sea.
The first upon whom judgment was executed was the An-
gel of Egypt — Uzza was thrown into the sea. A similar fate
overtook Rahab, the Angel of the Sea, with his hosts. Rahab
had made intercession before God in behalf of the Egyptians.
He had said: “Why shouldst Thou drown the Egyptians? Let
it suffice the Israelites that Thou hast saved them out of the
hand of their masters.” At that God dealt Rahab and his
army a blow, under which they staggered and fell dead, and
then He cast their corpses in the sea, whence its unpleasant
odor.
At the moment when the last of the Israelites stepped out
of the bed of the sea, the first of the Egyptians set foot into
it, but in the same instant the waters surged back into their
wonted place, and all the Egyptians perished.
But drowning was not the only punishment decreed upon
them by God. He undertook a thoroughgoing campaign
against them. When Pharaoh was preparing to persecute the
Israelites, he asked his army which of the saddle beasts was
the swiftest runner, that one he would use, and they said:
“There is none swifter than thy piebald mare, whose like is to
be found nowhere in the world.” Accordingly, Pharaoh
mounted the mare, and pursued after the Israelites seaward.
And while Pharaoh was inquiring of his army as to the
swiftest animal to mount, God was questioning the angels as
to the swiftest creature to use to the detriment of Pharaoh.
And the angels answered: “O Lord of the world! All things
are Thine, and all are Thine handiwork. Thou knowest well,
and it is manifest before Thee, that among all Thy creatures
there is none so quick as the wind that comes from under the
throne of Thy glory,” and the Lord flew swiftly upon the
wings of the wind.
The angels now advanced to support the Lord in His war
against the Egyptians. Some brought swords, some arrows,
and some spears. But God warded them off, saying, “Away! I
need no help!” The arrows sped by Pharaoh against the chil-
dren of Israel were answered by the Lord with fiery darts di-
rected against the Egyptians. Pharaoh s army advanced with
gleaming swords, and the Lord sent out lightnings that dis-
comfited the Egyptians. Pharaoh hurled missiles, and the
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS
339
Lord discharged hailstones and coals of fire against him. With
trumpets, sackbuts, and horns the Egyptians made their as-
sault, and the Lord thundered in the heavens, and the Most
High uttered His voice. In vain the Egyptians marched for-
ward in orderly battle array; the Lord deprived them of their
standards, and they were thrown into wild confusion. To lure
them into the water, the Lord caused fiery steeds to swim out
upon the sea, and the horses of the Egyptians followed them,
each with a rider upon his back.
Now the Egyptians tried to flee to their land in their chari-
ots drawn by she-mules. As they had treated the children of
Israel in a way contrary to nature, so the Lord treated them
now. Not the she-mules pulled the chariots, but the chariots,
though fire from heaven had consumed their wheels, dragged
the men and the beasts into the water. The chariots were
laden with silver, gold, and all sorts of costly things, which
the river Pishon, as it flows forth from Paradise, carries down
into the Gihon. Thence the treasures floated into the Red Sea,
and by its waters they were tossed into the chariots of the
Egyptians. It was the wish of God that these treasures should
come into the possession of Israel, and for this reason He
caused the chariots to roll down into the sea, and the sea in
turn to cast them out upon the opposite shore, at the feet of
the Israelites.
And the Lord fought against the Egyptians also with
the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire. The former made the
soil miry, and the mire was heated to the boiling point by the
latter, so that the hoofs of the horses dropped from their feet,
and they could not budge from the spot.
The anguish and the torture that God brought upon the
Egyptians at the Red Sea caused them by far more excruciat-
ing pain than the plagues they had endured in Egypt, for at
the sea He delivered them into the hands of the Angels of
Destruction, who tormented them pitilessly. Had God not en-
dowed the Egyptians with a double portion of strength, they
could not have stood the pain a single moment.
The last judgment executed upon the Egyptians correspond-
ed to the wicked designs harbored against Israel by the three
different parties among them when they set out in pursuit of
their liberated slaves. The first party had said, “We will bring
Israel back to Egypt”; the second had said, “We will strip
them bare,” and the third had said, “We will slay them all.”
The Lord blew upon the first with His breath, and the sea
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THE HUMAN COMEDY
covered them; the second party He shook into the sea, and
the third He pitched into the depths of the abyss. He tossed
them about as lentils are shaken up and down in a saucepan;
the upper ones are made to fall to the bottom, the lower ones
fly to the top. This was the experience of the Egyptians. And
worse still, first the rider and his beast were whisked high up
in the air and then the two together, the rider sitting upon the
back of the beast, were hurled to the bottom of the sea.
The Egyptians endeavored to save themselves from the sea
by conjuring charms, for they were great magicians. Of the
ten measures of magic allotted to the world, they had taken
nine for themselves. And, indeed, they succeeded for the mo-
ment; they escaped out of the sea. But immediately the sea
said to itself, “How can I allow the pledge entrusted to me by
God to be taken from me?” And the water rushed after the
Egyptians, and dragged back every man of them.
Among the Egyptians were the two arch-magicians Jannes
and Jambres. They made wings for themselves, with which
they flew up to heaven. They also said to Pharaoh: “If God
Himself hath done this thing, we can effect naught. But if this
work has been put into the hands of His angels, then we will
shake His lieutenants into the sea.” They proceeded at once
to use their magic contrivances, whereby they dragged the an-
gels down. These cried up to God: “Save us, O God, for the
waters are come in unto our soul! Speak Thy word that will
cause the magicians to drown in the mighty waters.” And
Gabriel cried to God, “By the greatness of Thy glory dash
Thy adversaries to pieces.” Hereupon God bade Michael go
and execute judgment upon the two magicians. The archangel
seized hold of Jannes and Jambres by the locks of their hair,
and he shattered them against the surface of the water.
Thus all the Egyptians were drowned. Only one was
spared — Pharaoh himself. When the children of Israel raised
their voices to sing a song of praise to God at the shores of
the Rea Sea, Pharaoh heard it as he was jostled hither and
thither by the billows, and he pointed his finger heavenward,
and called out: “I believe in Thee, O God! Thou art righ-
teous, and I and My people are wicked, and I acknowledge
now that there is no god in the world beside Thee.” Without
a moment’s delay, Gabriel descended and laid an iron chain
about Pharaoh’s neck, and holding him securely, he addressed
him thus: “Villain! Yesterday thou didst say, ‘Who is the
Lord that I should hearken to His voice?’ and now thou
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 341
sayest. The Lord is righteous.’ ” With that he let him drop
into the depths of the sea, and there he tortured him for fifty
days, to make the power of God known to him. At the end
of the time he installed him as king of the great city of
Nineveh, and after the lapse of many centuries, when Jonah
came to Nineveh, and prophesied the overthrow of the city
on account of the evil done by the people, it was Pharaoh
who, seized by fear and terror, covered himself with sack-
cloth, and sat in ashes, and with his own mouth made procla-
mation and published this decree through Nineveh: “Let
neither man nor beast, herd nor flock, taste anything; let
them not feed nor drink water; for I know there is no god
beside Him in all the world, all His words are truth, and all
His judgments are true and faithful.”
Pharaoh never died, and never will die. He always stands
at the portal of hell, and when the kings of the nations enter,
he makes the power of God known to them at once, in these
words: “O ye fools! Why have ye not learnt knowledge from
me? I denied the Lord God, and He brought ten plagues
upon me, sent me to the bottom of the sea, kept me there for
fifty days, released me then, and brought me up. Thus I could
not but believe in Him.”
The Widow and the Law 10
Korah was a great scoffer. He used to gather the Children of
Israel around him and abuse our teacher Moses and his
brother Aaron and the multitude of the laws they established.
One day he told them the following story:
“In my neighborhood there lived a poor widow and her
two daughters. She owned a field that she had inherited from
her husband. When she began to plow Moses said to her.
Thou shalt not plow with ox and ass together.*
“When she began to sow Moses said to her, ‘Thou shalt not
sow thy field with two kinds of seed.*
“When the time for cutting the wheat and making sheaves
arrived Moses again came to her and said, ‘You must leave
“gleanings," “the poor man’s sheath,” and the “comer.” ’
“When the widow got ready to thresh the wheat, he said to
her, ‘Yield up the priest’s share and the first and second
tithes.’
‘The poor woman did as she was told and gave Moses
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TALES AND LEGENDS
whatever he asked. But seeing that she got nothing out of her
wheat she sold the field and with the money bought two
sheep. She expected a great deal from them — she’d make
clothing from their wool and the little sheep would supply
her with mutton.
“But no sooner did the sheep bear their young when Aaron
the high priest came and said, ‘Give me the first-born, for
Moses decreed that all the firstlings belong to the priests.’
“The widow thereupon obeyed the law and gave away the
first-bom.
“When shearing time came Aaron again came and said to
her, ‘Give me the first shearing, for that too belongs to the
priest.’
“Out of patience, the widow cried out, ‘I can no longer en-
dure this! I shall slaughter these animals, eat their meat, and
bring an end to all this!’
“But no sooner had she slaughtered them when Aaron said
to her, “According to the Law you must give me the neck,
the cheeks and the belly.’
“ “What!’ exclaimed the widow. ‘Is it possible that Pm still
not rid of you? In that case neither you nor I are going to
have any of it. By my life, I shall consecrate it!’
“ ‘If you consecrate it,’ replied Aaron, ‘then it belongs alto-
gether to me, for the Lord hath said: “Everything conse-
crated in Israel shall be thine.” ’
“So he took the sheep and went away and left the widow
weeping.”
The Angels Jealous of Moses11
Rabbi Joshua, son of Levi, says that at the time when Moses
went up to heaven to receive the Law, which the Lord,
blessed be He, was giving him, the angels said, “Lord of the
universe, what is a mortal man doing here in the heavens
amongst us?* And the Lord replied, “He has come to receive
the Torah.” Then the angels said, “Wilt Thou hand over to
man that hidden jewel which Thou hast treasured up with
Thee during 974 generations, before Thou hadst created the
world? What is man whom Thou hast created? ‘Give Thy
beauty to the heavens’ (Ps. 8.2). Leave the Torah here and
do not give it to man.” Then God said, “Moses, answer the
angels concerning that which they have spoken to Me.” And
Moses replied, “Lord of the universe, I would fain answer
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 343
them, but I fear lest they bum me up with the breath of their
mouths.” Then God said, “Moses take hold of the throne of
glory and answer their speech.” And when our master Moses
heard this, he began to speak, and said, “Lord of the uni-
verse, what is written in that Torah which Thou intendest to
give to me? ‘I am the Lord thy God who brought thee out of
the land of Egypt’ (Ex. 20.2). O angels, have you gone down
into Egypt? Have you served Pharaoh? Then why should the
Lord, blessed be He, give you the Torah? Again, what else is
written in this Torah? Is it not written, ‘Thou shalt have no
other gods before Me’ (ibid. v. 3)? Are you living among
heathens that you should serve other gods? It is further
written therein, ‘Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy*
(ibid. v. 8), which means, rest on that day. Are you working
that you should have to be commanded to rest? Furthermore,
it is written therein, ‘Thou shalt not take a false oath’ (cf. ibid,
v. 7). Are you engaged in business that you should be com-
manded not to take a false oath? Furthermore, ‘Honour thy
father and thy mother’ (ibid. v. 12). Have you a father and a
mother that you should be commanded to honour them?
‘Thou shalt not murder, thou shalt not commit adultery, thou
shalt not steal’ (ibid. v. 13). Is there envy and hatred among
you that you should be commanded not to do these things?
Of what good, therefore, is the Torah to you?” When the an-
gels heard this, they became friendly to Moses and everyone
of the angels taught him something, even the angel of
death.
The Death of Moses 12
I. Joshua Is Chosen As His Successor
After the defeat of the Midianites at the hands of Israel,
God said to Moses: “Go up to the mountain of Abarim from
whence you will see the land which I have given to the chil-
dren of Israel, and then you will die, as your brother Aaron
died.”
“Oh Lord,” pleaded Moses, “You know the spirit of the
living, both those that are proud and those that are humble,
those that are patient and those that are restive. I am about
to depart from this world, I pray You, appoint a leader over
the Israelites who will know how to deal with each according
to his due. Appoint a leader over them, who shall not be like
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TALES AND LEGENDS
the kings of the heathens that send their people to war while
they themselves remain in their palaces and waste their time
in revelry, but one who will go out before the Israelites and
lead them into battle.”
“Your successor shall be he who has served you with devo-
tion,” said God, “he who has shown you the greatest vener-
ation. Joshua, the son of Nun, shall bring forth my people
from the wilderness and take them into the Promised Land.”
“Indeed,” answered Moses, “I have proven him, and he
knows how to deal with people of every kind, and he is cer-
tainly the man who I expected would be chosen as my suc-
cessor.”
“Take Joshua then,” said God, “lay your hand upon him
and bestow of your spirit upon him, so that the children of
Israel may accept him as their leader while you are stall alive,
and honor him.”
Moses went to Joshua and related to him what God had
spoken concerning him. Joshua wept bitterly when he heard
that his beloved master would soon die in the wilderness, and
would not lead Israel into the Promised Land. “Alas, Mas-
ter!” he wailed, “your words fill me with sorrow. All Israel
will join me in the prayer that God may forgive you and al-
low you to enter the Promised Land.”
“God is no mortal who is apt to change his mind,” replied
Moses. “His decree must stand.”
“But am I the one who deserves succeeding you?” asked
Joshua.
With kind words Moses at last persuaded Joshua to
succeed him as the leader of Israel after his death. He then
led him before Eleazar, the high priest, and before all the
people of Israel, and in their presence he laid his hand upon
Joshua, and bestowed his spirit upon him.
Moses then said to Joshua: “Heed my advice concerning
how to lead Israel, and God will be with you. Know that Is-
rael is still young and has a great deal to learn yet. Should he
sin do not be angry with him. For God himself never was too
exacting concerning Israel, but always forgave him his back-
slidings, although he was many a time provoked to great an-
ger against him. Now you must rule over Israel as a father
rules over his children, and only then will you deserve to be
called the ‘Leader of Israel.’ ”
Joshua promised his master to be true to his teachings, and
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 345
with a heavy heart and tears in his eyes, he accepted the lead-
ership over Israel.
II. Moses Prays that God Suspend His Judgment
As the days of Moses’ life drew near to their end, he began
to pray to God to forgive him his sins and allow him to enter
the Promised Land, saying:
“O Lord of the world! In Your mercy have you chosen me
for Your servant and through me You have performed great
and wondrous miracles in the land of Egypt. But now You
say to me: ‘Behold, you will die!’ Shall my final end likewise
be dust and worms as that of all other mortals?”
And God replied: “No man can escape death. Even Adam,
who was the work of My own hands, was doomed to die; so’
how can a man bom of a woman escape it?”
O Lord of the World!” said Moses. “You gave only one
command to the first man and yet he disobeyed you!”
“Isaac who laid his neck upon the altar to be sacrificed as
an offering to Me, also died.”
“But from Isaac issued Esau who will destroy your temple
and bum your house and exile your children!”
“From Jacob issued twelve tribes that did not anger me,
and yet he too died.”
Yet Moses persisted, saying: “But Jacob’s feet never as-
cended into heaven, and he did not walk upon clouds. Nei-
ther did You speak face to face with him, nor did he receive
the Torah from Your hand.”
“Enough!” cried God. “Speak to Me no longer of this mat-
ter!”
But Moses pleaded on: “With all Your creatures, O my
Lord God, You deal according to Your attribute of mercy.
You forgive them their sins but You will not even overlook
my one sin.”
“Not once but six times have you sinned against Me,” re-
minded him God.
“O Lord of the World!” pleaded Moses again. “How often
did Israel sin before You, and when I implored Your mercy
toward them You forgave them, but me You will not for-
give.”
“Two vows have I made,” answered God, “one that you
will die before Israel enters the Promised Land, and the other
that Israel shall be forgiven and not be allowed to perish. If I
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TALES AND LEGENDS
am to break the first I must also cancel the other, and Israel
will have to die.”
And Moses cried out: “Rather shall Moses and a thousand
more of his kind perish than a single soul in Israel!”
m. God Rejects Moses’ Last Plea
Moses now made a last effort to obtain God’s mercy, say-
ing: “Although I never saw the Promised Land, I have
praised it to the people. Shall I share the lot of spies who, al-
though they saw the good land, spoke evil of it in the
presence of the people? You know, O Lord, that my desire to
enter the Promised Land is not prompted by self-interest. I
wish to go there that I might perform all those of Your Com-
mandments that are still to be fulfilled. Forgive me then my
sin and allow me to enter the land. Then all living flesh shall
know that You are forgiving and merciful.”
“Your sin shall not be forgiven you,” answered God, “so
that all flesh shall know that the Lord does not even discrimi-
nate in favor of him with whom He spoke face to face.”
“If it be your wish,” urged Moses, “that I do not enter the
land as leader of the people, then let me enter as the hum-
blest of them all.”
And God answered: “Even this cannot be granted to you.”
Then Moses pleaded: “Change me into a beast that eats
grass and drinks water, but let me enter the land which You
have given to the Children of Israel.”
“This too must be denied you,” replied the Almighty.
“If You are unwilling to change me into a beast, then
change me into a little bird that picks its daily food wherever
it can find it and then at the fall of night returns to its nest,
only let me enter into the Promised Land!”
“Enough, My decree is unalterable!” cried God.
Hearing God’s final decision, Moses exclaimed: “The Rock
of Ages — all His ways are just!”
And he implored: “Permit me, O Lord, to make but one
request of You. Let the heavens be opened and the abyss be
rent asunder, so that Your people may see that here is none
besides You, O my Lord, neither in the heavens nor upon the
earth.”
No sooner had Moses finished speaking when the heavens
were opened, the abyss was rent asunder, a great light shone
in the dark of the night, and the eyes of all Israel were
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS
347
opened and they saw that neither in the heavens above nor
on the earth below was there anything except the greatness
and glory of God. Thereupon, all the people cried out as one
man: “Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One!”
IV. Moses Is Ready to Die
Moses then sat down to write thirteen scrolls of the Torah,
twelve for the twelve tribes, and one to be put into the Holy
Ark.
When Moses had completed his writing, he went to the
tent of Joshua. He stood at the entrance and listened as his
disciple expounded the Torah to a number of Israelites.
Meanwhile more people arrived, and when they beheld Moses
standing at the entrance, they ran into the tent and ex-
claimed: “Alas! you show no respect to our great leader and
teacher, if you thus permit him to stand at the entrance of
your tent.”
Joshua thereupon looked toward the entrance, and when he
saw Moses standing there, he tore his garments and weeping
said: “Pray enter the tent and expound the Torah to your
humble servants.”
“From this day on,” Moses replied, “I shall be your disci-
ple.”
Moses and Joshua then went to the Tabernacle, but as they
entered, a cloud descended and separated them. God then
spoke to Joshua, and His words were not audible to Moses.
Moses asked Joshua what God had said, but Joshua replied
that God would not permit him to tell of what He had spo-
ken to him.
“Now, I am willing to die,” said Moses to God.
“Go up to the top of Mount Pisgah,” God commanded
him, “and from there I will show you the land of Israel and
tell you of all that will befall the Israelites in days to come.”
V. Moses Chastises Samael, the Angel of Death
When God saw that Moses was ready to die, he said to the
angel Gabriel: “Go fetch Me the soul of Moses!”
“How can I approach and take the soul of him who has
wrought so many miracles?” asked Gabriel. “O Lord of the
world! Adam sinned against You, and therefore You re-
moved Your glory from him and bestowed it upon Moses
whom You love.
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TALES AND LEGENDS
“Noah, who found favor in My eyes because of his righ-
teousness and simplicity, also died.”
“Noah saved only himself when You sent a flood upon the
world,” argued Gabriel, “nor did he care to pray to You for
the lives of the people who were to be destroyed. But Moses,
your servant, would not leave Your presence until You had
promised him that You would forgive the people their sin.”
“Abraham, who was kind and righteous, he too did not es-
cape death,” answered God.
“Abraham was indeed a great man, for he gave food to the
poor and provided them with all their wants, but this was
done by him in a settled land, whereas Moses provided an en-
tire nation with food in a wilderness where there was neither
food nor drink,” said Gabriel.
“No mortal can escape death!” said God. “Such is My
decree!”
Then Gabriel went on to plead: “O Lord of the world!
Pray give this mission to anyone it pleases You, but not to
me.”
God then tinned to the angel Michael and said to him:
“Go and fetch me the soul of Moses!”
Answered Michael: “How can I presume to approach and
take the soul of him who is equal in Your eyes to sixty myri-
ads of people?”
“You go then!” said God to the angel Zagzagel. “Go and
fetch me the soul of Moses.”
“Lord of the world!” replied Zagzagel. “When Moses as-
cended to heaven to receive the Torah, I was his teacher and
he was my disciple. How can I take his soul?”
God then said to Samael, the Angel of Death: “Go and
fetch me the soul of Moses!”
Samael rejoiced over this mission. He took his sword and
wrapped himself in wrath and hastened to Moses. But when
he beheld the face of Moses and gazed into his eyes, the radi-
ance of which was equal to that of the sun, he trembled and
drew back.
“Why do you stand there? What is it you want of me?”
asked Moses.
“The God of heaven and earth, He who created all souls,
has sent me to take your soul,” replied the Angel of Death.
“I will not give you my soul!” cried Moses. “Leave me at
once, for I stand here declaring the glory of God!”
To which the Angel of Death replied: “The heavens de-
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 349
clare the glory of God and the firmament sheweth His hand-
iwork.”
“But I will silence the heavens and the firmament, and I
myself will narrate His glory,” said Moses.
“All souls since the creation of the world were delivered
into my hands,” continued the Angel of Death. “Now pray
let me approach you and take your soul too.”
“Go away!” cried Moses. “I will not give you my soul!”
In great terror Samael returned to God and said: “Lord of
the world! I am unable to approach the man to whom You
sent me.”
God’s wrath was now kindled against Samael and He said
to him: “Go to him again and fetch Me his soul!”
So Samael drew his sword from its sheath, girded himself
in cruelty, and in a towering fury went off to see Moses.
When Moses beheld Samael he arose in anger and with the
staff upon which was engraved the Ineffable Name, he drove
him away. The Angel of Death fled in terror but Moses pur-
sued him. When finally he caught up with Samael he struck
him with his staff and blinded him. At that very moment a
ringing Voice from heaven was heard calling:
“Your last second is at hand, Moses!”
Hearing this, Moses stood up in prayer, and murmured:
“Lord of the world, remember the day on which You ap-
peared to me in the bush of thorns and commanded me to go
to Pharaoh and bring forth Your people from the land of
Egypt. Recall also the day I ascended into heaven where for
forty days I had neither food nor drink. I pray You, gracious
and merciful God, do not surrender my soul into the hands
of the Angel of Death!”
Then the Heavenly Voice spoke once again: “Be comfort-
ed, Moses! I myself will take your soul. I myself will bury
you.”
VI. The Death of Moses
God revealed Himself to Moses from the highest heaven,
and with God descended three angels, Michael, Gabriel and
Zagzagel. Michael arranged the couch for Moses, Gabriel
spread upon it the white napkin for the head, and Zagzagel
the one for the feet.
Then Michael stood on the right side of Moses, Gabriel on
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TALES AND LEGENDS
his left, Zagzagel at his feet, and the Majesty of God hovered
over his head.
And the Lord said to Moses: “Shut your eyes.”
Moses obeyed.
Then the Lord said: “Press your hand upon your heart.”
Moses did so.
Then the Lord said: “Place your feet in order.”
Moses obeyed God’s command.
Thereupon the Lord addressed the soul of Moses: “My
daughter! For one hundred and twenty years have you in-
habited this undefiled body of dust. But now your hour is
come. Rise and fly into Paradise!”
But the soul replied: “I know that You are the God of
spirits and of souls. You created me and put me into the
body of this righteous man. Is there anywhere in the world a
body so pure and holy as this one? During these one hundred
and twenty years I learned to love it, and now I do not wish
to leave it.”
God replied: “My daughter, do not hesitate, but come
forth for your end has come. I will place you in the highest
heaven and let you dwell, like the Cherubim and the Sera-
phim, beneath the throne of Divine Majesty.”
But the soul replied: “Lord of the world! I desire to re-
main with this righteous man, for he is purer and holier than
the very angels. When the Angels Azael and Shemhazai de-
scended from heaven to earth, they became corrupt, but the
son of Amram, a creature of flesh and blood, has not sinned
from the moment he saw the light of day. Let me therefore, I
implore You, remain where I am.”
Then God bent over the face of Moses and kissed him. At
once the soul leaped up in joy and with the kiss of God flew
into Paradise.
A sad cloud darkened the sky, and the heavens and the
earth wailed: “The pious one has been lost from the earth,
and there is none more righteous among men!”
Joshua rent his garments and lamented: “Help, O Lord,
for there are no longer any pious ones, and the faithful have
departed from the midst of men!”
And all Israel lamented the loss of Moses, crying: “The
righteousness of the Lord has he performed, and he has ex-
ecuted his judgment in Israel.”
And when all the voices were silenced, the Divine Presence
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 351
proclaimed: “There has not arisen a prophet in Israel like
Moses whom the Lord knew face to face.”
Why God Forgives Man 18
Elijah the Prophet once told the following story:
“It happened that I came to a great city, one of the
greatest in the world. In that city lived a government official
whose duty it was to investigate suspicious characters. When
he saw me he led me into the king’s palace where a priest
came toward me and asked, ‘Are you a scholar?’
“I answered, ‘I know a little.’
‘To which he said, ‘If you’ll give me the right answer to
the question which I am going to ask you I will let you go in
peace.’
“I said, ‘Ask!’
“ ‘Why did the Almighty create reptiles? Why did he need
such ugly crawling creatures in his beautiful world?’
“I answered him: The Almighty is a stem judge. But He
also loves justice, benevolence and truth. He foresees the out-
come of everything and foretells the future. He is concerned
with the good only. With His profound wisdom He created
the world and all that is on it. After that He fashioned man.
And the only reason He made man was that he serve Him
with all his heart, so that He should take pleasure in him and
in the generations that spring from his loins until the end of
days.
“ ‘But when man procreated and his number became great
he began to worship the sun and stones and wooden idols.
From day to day the sinfulness of man had been mounting so
that he deserved death and greatly tried God’s patience.
“ ‘At that point God looked upon all the creatures He had
created in the world and said: “Men have life and these crea-
tures have life. Men have souls and these creatures have
souls. Men eat and drink and these creatures eat and drink.
Therefore, men too are animals and are no better than the
reptiles that I have created.”
“ ‘Immediately thereafter the Almighty’s wrath subsided
and he withheld his hand from destroying mankind. From
this, therefore, you can see that God created reptiles, so that
He would have some creatures with which to compare man
and shame him into humility.’ ”
352 TALES AND LEGENDS
King David Bows Before an Idol 14
When David reached the summit of the Mount of Olives he
said to his servants, “Go and find me an idol and bring it
here!”
When David’s servants went to do his bidding they met
Hushai the Archite, the king’s friend. He asked them, “Where
are you going?”
ITiey answered, “David, our king, has commanded us to
bring him an idol.”
Astounded, Hushai went to David and asked, “Tell me, O
King, why did you bid your servants to bring you an idol?”
And David replied, “I wish to bow before the idol.”
When Hushai heard these words he rent his garments and
strewed ashes on his head and cried aloud, “Woe is me that a
man like King David should bow before an idol.”
Then spoke the king: “Do not grieve so, my friend! Don’t
you know how great my fame is throughout the world? All
who have heard of me say: ‘There is no man as virtuous as
David. He rules his people with the fear of God in his heart
He does only good, metes out justice and fulfills all of God’s
commandments.’ Now therefore consider, Hushai, when the
people hear about my miserable plight, how my son Absalom
attacked me and tried to kill me, what do you suppose they
will think? They will say, ‘What a waste to worship such a
God! With Him there is neither justice nor reward of virtue.’
For that reason, I have decided to bow down before an idol
in order to defame myself. Then people will be able to say,
There you have proof there is a God in heaven and a sover-
eign over the earth! He rules with truth and with justice and
punishes even mighty King David for his idol-worship.’ ”
Better than a Dead Lion 15
Once King David said to God, “Lord of the Universe! I beg
of You, tell me the day when I will die.”
God answered, “I have decreed that no mortal should
know his last day.”
“Then tell me — how many years will I live?” David im-
plored.
“I have decreed that no mortal shall know the number of
his years on earth.”
“Tell me then, O Lord of the Universe, on what day in the
week will I die?”
BIBLICAL SIDELIGHTS 353
And the Creator answered, “You will die on the Sabbath
day.”
“Let me die on the day after the Sabbath,” pleaded David.
“That cannot be,” answered God. “The rule of your son,
Solomon, begins on the day after the Sabbath.”
“Then let me die a day before the Sabbath!” implored King
David.
“No man may die before his hour comes,” answered the
Almighty. “Dearer to Me is the Torah that you will study for
one single day than a thousand sacrifices your son Solomon
will bring upon My altar as King.”
From that time on King David spent the entire Sabbath
day in devoted study of the Torah. And, when the Sabbath
on which he was to die arrived, the Angel of Death rose up
against him; but he had no power over him, for King David
did not cease his studying.
“What shall I do with him?” cried the Angel of Death in
exasperation.
Behind the royal palace lay a lovely garden, and so the
Angel of Death entered it and began to shake the trees. Hear-
ing the noise, David went to see who was disturbing the Sab-
bath peace. And as he walked he did not cease his devoted
study of the Torah. But as he descended the steps he lost his
balance and for one instant the sacred words became stilled
on his lips. In that very instant the Angel of Death smote
him.
Thereupon, Solomon inquired of the sages: “What shall I
do? My father lies dead in the fierce sun. The dogs are hun-
gry. They bark and sharpen their teeth.”
The sages replied, “Your father was a king in his life. Now
that he is dead he is only a corpse. One may not violate the
Sabbath for the sake of a dead man.”
And when Solomon heard these words he commented, “A
live dog is better than a dead lion.”
The Wall of the Poor 18
When Solomon wished to build the Temple in the holy city
of Jerusalem, an angel of God appeared to him and said,
“Solomon, son of David, King of Israel, since thou dost know
that the Temple which thou wilt build Me will be the holy
place of the people, the portion of all Israel, summon all Is-
354
TALES AND LEGENDS
rael and let each man take part in the work, each one ac-
cording to his capacity.”
So King Solomon sent forth and summoned assemblies of
his people Israel, and not one man was missing. There came
the princes and the rulers, and priests and the nobles, as well
as the needy and the poor. And Solomon cast lots for the la-
bor, for everything was apportioned by lot. And the lots fell
in this manner: to the princes and rulers, the cupolas of the
pillars and the steps; to the priests of Aaron’s seed and to the
Levites, the Ark of the Testimony and the curtain which is
upon it; to those mighty in wealth, the eastern side
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